The Athenian oracle abridged :

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ATHENIAN ORACLE

ABRIDGED;

CONTAINING THE MOST VALUABLE
199

THE ORIGINAL WORK j

ON

HISTORY, PHILOSOPHY, DIVINITY,

LOVE AND MARRIAGE.

ILonUon:

PRINTED BY AND FOR JOHN NICHOLS AND SON,

25, PARLIAMENT-STREET, WESTMINSTEH.

1820.

ADVERTISEMENT,

THE present Abridgment contains the
quintessence of " The Athenian Oracle;" and
comprises a rich treasure of useful knowledge,
for the Theologian, the Historian, the Phi-
losopher, and the Lover. In short, all classes
may find In the present Work something
conducive to their pleasure and improvement,
in their hours of seriousness, as well as those
of gaiety.

The Athenian Oracle'' was a Selection of
what was valuable in The Athenian Mer-
cury," one of the many Projects of the cele-
brated John Dunton; who, in his Life
and Errors," thus informs his Readers of the
true Question Project^ and of the several
Persons that engaged in it :

" I had received a very flaming injury, which
was so loaded with aggravations, that I could
scarce get over it ; my thoughts were constantly
working upon it, and made me strangely uneasy :
sometimes I thought to make application to some
Divine, but how to conceal myself and the un-
grateful wretch, was the difficulty. Whilst this

I

iv ADVERTISETMENT.

perplexity remained upon me, I was one day
walking over St. George's-fields, and Mr. Larkin
and Mr. Harris * were along with me ; and on a
sudden I made a stop, and said, ' Well, Sirs,'
I have a thought Til not exchange for fifty gui-
neas They smiled, and were very urgent with me
to discover it ; but they could not get it from me.

The first rude hint of it was no more than
a confused idea of concealing the Querist, and
answering his Question. However, so soon as I
came home, I managed it to some better purpose,
brought it into form, and hammered out a title
for it, which happened to be extremely lucky,
and those who are well acquainted with the Gre-
cian History may discover some peculiar beauties
in it. — However, the honest Reader that knows
nothing of criticism may see the reason why this
Project was intituled ^ The Athenian Gazette,' if
he only turns to Actsxvii. 31. — When I had thus
formed the design, I found that some assistance
was absolutely necessary to carry it on, in regard
the Project took in the whole compass of Learn-
ing, and the nature of it required dispatch.

" I had then some acquaintance with the inge-
nious Mr. Sault ; who turned Malebranche into
English for me, and was admirably well skilled in
the mathematicks ; and over a glass of wine I un-
bosomed myself to him, and he very freely offered

* Two eminent booksellers.

ADVERTISEMENT.

V

to become concerned. So soon as the design was
well advertised, Mr. Sault and myself, without
any more assistance, settled to it with great dili-
gence : and Numbers 1. 2. were entirely of Mr.
Sault's composure and mine.

" The Project being surprizing and unthought
of, we were immediately overloaded with Letters ;
and sometimes I have found several hundreds for
me at Mr. Smith's coffee-house in Stocks-market,
where we usually met to consult matters.

" The ^ Athenian Gazette' made now such a
noise in the world, and was so universally re-
ceived, that we were obliged to look out after
more Members ; and Mr. Sault, I remember,
one evening came to me in great transport, and
told me he had been in company with a gentle-
man, who was the greatest prodigy of Learning he
had ever met with ; upon inquiry, we found it
w^as the ingenious Dr. Norris, who very gene-
rously offered his assistance gratis, but refused
to become a stated Member of Athens. He was
wonderfully useful in supplying hints ; for, being
universally read, and his memory very strong,
there was nothing could be asked, but he could
very easily say something to the purpose upon it.

" In a little time after, to oblige Authority^
we altered the title of ' Athenian Gazette into
' Athenian Mercury' The undertaking growing
every week upon our hands, the impatience of
our Querists, and the curiosity of their Questions,

VI

ADVERTISEMENT.

wh\ch required a great deal of accuracy and care^^
obliged us to adopt a third member of Athens ;
and the Reverend Samuel Wesley being just
come to town, all new from the University, and
my acquaintance with him being very intimate, I
easily prevailed upon him to embark himself
upon the same bottom, and in the same cause.
With this new addition we found ourselves to be
masters of the whole design, and thereupon we
neither lessened nor increased our number.

" The ' Athenian Mercury' began at length to
be so well approved, that Mr. Gildon thought it
worth his while to write ^ A History of the Athe-
nian Society;* to which were prefixed several
Poems, written by the chief Wits of the age (viz.
Mr. Motteux, Mr. De Foe, Mr. Richardson, &.c.
and in particular, Mr. Tate, now Poet Laureat),
was pleased to honour us with a poem directed to
the Athenian Society.

Mr. Swift*', a country gentleman, sent an
Ode to the Athenian Society ; which, being an
ingenious poem, was prefixed to the Fifth Sup-
plement of the ^ Athenian Mercury.'

Our Athenian Project not only obtained among
the populace, but was well received among the
politer part of mankind.

"That great and learned Nobleman, the late

* Afterwards the celebrated Dean.

t This Ode has since been incorporated in Swift's Wei'ks
and it accompanies this Advertisement. See p. ix.

ADVERTISEMENT.

vii

Marquis of Halifax, was once plear^ed to tell
me, ' that he constantly perused oiiv Mercuries,
and had received very great satisfaction from very
many of our Answers/

" The late Sir William Temple, a man of a
clear judgment, and wonderful penetration, was
pleased to honour me with frequent Letters and
Questions, very curious and uncommon ; in par-
ticular, that about the Taltsmam^ was his.

" The Honourable Sir Thomas Pope Blount,
when he resided in town, has very frequently
sent for me to his chamber, and given me par-
ticular thanks for my Athenian Project ; and,
the last visit I made him, he told me " the Athe-
nian Society was certainly the most useful and
informing design that had ever been set on foot
in England."

" Sir William Hedges was pleased to tell me,
" he was so well pleased with the ^ Athenian
Mercuries,' that he would send several complete
sets into the Indies, to his friends; and that he
thought the publick, and himself in particular, so
much obliged to me, that I should always be
welcome to his house; and that he would serve me
to the utmost with reference to my trade."

" 1 could mention many more honours that
were done me, by Sir Peter Pett-^ and many

* Re-printed in the present Volume, p. 39*.

t A virtuoso and a great scholar, and Fellow of the Royal
Society. He was well accomplished for conversation^ because
of his natural fluency and the fineness of his wit."

via

ADVERTISEMENT.

others, whose learning and judgment the world
has little reason to question.

" Our * Athenian Mercuries' were continued
till they swelled, at least, to twenty volumes
folio ; and then we took up, to give ourselves a
little ease, and refreshment; for the labours and
the travels of the mind are as expensive, and
wear the spirits off as fast, as those of the body.
However, our Society was never formally dis-
solved.

" The old Athenian volumes, a while ago,
growing quite out of print, a choice collection of
the most valuable Questions and Answers, in three
volumes, have lately been re-printed, and made
public [a fourth was subsequently added], under
the title of " The Athenian Oracle."

Thus far we have given the history of the
Work before the Reader in the words of
honest John Dunton, the original Pro-
jector; and it only remains to add, that, In
the Selection now offered to the Publick,
there Is nothing that is In the least calcu-
lated to give oflFence to the most chaste and
delicate mind.

July 10, 1820.

ODE

TO

THE ATHENIAN SOCIETY.

AS when the deluge first began to fall.

That mighty ebb never to flow again
(When this great body's moisture was so great,

It quite o'ercame the vital heat).
That mountain which was highest first of all,
Appear'd above the universal main.
To bless the primitive Sailor's weary sight !
And 'twas perhaps Parnassus, if in height

It be as great as 'tis in fame.

And nigh to Heaven as is its name :
So, after th' inundation of war.
When learning's little household did embark
With her world's fruitful system in her sacred ark.

At the first ebb of noise and fears.
Philosophy's exalted head appears ;
And the Dove-Muse will now no longer stay.
But plumes her silver wings, and flies away ;

And now a laurel-wreath she brings from far.

To crown the happy conqueror.

To shew the flood begins to cease,
And brings the dear reward of victory and peace.

II.

The eager Muse took wing upon the waves decline,
When War her cloudy aspect just withdrew.
When the bright sun of peace began to shine,

And for awhile in heav'nly contemplation sat
On the high top of peaceful Ararat j

And pluck'd a laurel-branch (for laurel was the first that grew.

The first of plants after the thunder, storm, and lain),^
And thence, with joyful, nimble wing.
Flew dutifully back again,

And made an humble chaplet* for the kir.g.

* The Ode I writ to the King: in Ireland.

X

ODE TO THE

And the Dove-Muse is fled once more
(Glad of the victory, yet frighted at the war).
And now discovers from afar
A peaceful and a flourishing shore :
No sooner did she land
On the dehi^hiful strand,
Than straight she sees the country all around,
WTiere fatal Neptune rui'd erewhile,
Scatter d with flow'ry vales, with fruitful gardens crown'd,
And many a pleasant wood !
As if the universal Nile
Had rather water'd it than drown'd :
It seems some floating piece of paradise,

Preserv'd by wonder from the flood.
Long vvand'ring through the deep, as we are told
Fam'd Delos d d of old,
And the transported Muse imagin'd it
To be a fitter birth-})lace for the God of wit.
Or the much-talk'd oracular grove j
When with amazing joy she hears
An unknown musick all around
Charming her greedy ears
With many a heavenly song
Of nature and of art, of deep philosophy and love.
Whilst angels tune the voice and God inspires the tongue.

In vain she catches at the empty sound,
In vain pursues the musick with her longing eye,
And courts the wanton echoes as they fly.

III.

Pardon, ye great unknown, and far-exalted men.
The wild excursions of a youthful pen ;

Forgive a young and (almost) virgin muse.

Whom blind and eager curiosity
(Yet curiosity, they say.
Is in her sex a crime needs no excuse)

Has fore d to grope her uncouth way
After a mighty light that leads her vvand'ring eye.
No wonder then she quits the narrow path of sense

For a dear ramble through impertinence 3

Impertinence, the scurvy of mankind.
And all we fools, who are the greater part of it.

Though we be of two different factions still.
Both the good natur'd and the ill.

Yet wheresoe'er you look, you'll always find
We join like flies, and wasps, in buzzing about wit.

ATHENIAN SOCIETY.

xi

In me, who am of the first sect of these.
All merit, that transcends the humble rules
Of my own dazzled scanty sense.

Begets a kinder folly and impertinence
Of admiration and of praise.

And our good brethren of the surly sect

Must e'en all herd us with their kindred fools :

For though, possess'd of present vogue, they've made

Railing a rule of wit, and obloquy a trade ;

Yet the same want of brains produces each effect.
And you whom Pluto's helm does wisely shroud

From us the blind and thoughtless crowd.
Like the fam'd Hero in his mother's cloud.

Who both our follies and impertinencies see.

Do laugh perhaps at theirs, and pity mine and me*

IV.

But censure's to be understood
Th' authentic mark of the elect.
The public stamp Heav'n sets on all that's great and good
Our shallow search and judgment to direct.
The war methinks has made
Our wit and learning narrow as our trade :
Instead of sailing boldly far to buy
A stock of wisdom and philosophy.

We fondly stay at home, in fear
Of ev'ry censuring privateer;
Forcing a wretched trade by beating down the sale^
And selling basely by retail.
The Wits, J mean the atheists of the age.
Who fain would rule the pulpit as they do the stage 5
Wond'rous refiners of philosophy.
Of morals and divinity.
By the new modish system of reducing all to sense,
Against all logick and concluding laws.
Do own th'efFects of Providence,
And yet deny the cause.

V.

This hopeful sect, now it begins to see
How little, very little do prevail

Their first and chiefest force
To censure, to cry down, and rail.
Not knowing what, or where, or whom you !)e.

Xll

ODE TO THE

Will quickly take another course :

And, by their never-failing ways
Of solving all appearances they please,
We soon shall see them to their ancient methods fall>
And straight deny you to be men, or any thing at all.

I laugh at the grave answer they will make.
Which they have always ready, general and cheap:
'Tis but to say, that what we daily meet.
And by a fond mistake
Perhaps imagine to be wond'rous wit.
And think, alas ! to be by mortals writ.
Is but a croud of atoms justling in a heap.

Which from eternal seeds begun,
Justling some thousand years till ripen'd by the sun j
They're now, just now, as naturally born.
As from the womb of earth a field of corn.

VI.

But as for poor contented me.
Who must my weakness and my ignorance confess.
That I believe in much I ne'er can hope to see
Methinks I'm satisfy'd to guess.
That this new, noble, and dehghtful scene,
Is wonderfully mov'd by some exalted men.

Who have well studied in the world's disease
(That epidemic error and depravity.

Or in our judgment or our eye).
That what surprizes us can only please.
We often search contentedly the whole world round
To make some great discovery.
And scorn it when 'tis foimd.
Just so the mighty Nile has suffer'd in its fame.

Because 'tis eaid (and perhaps only said)
We've found a little inconsiderable head,

That feeds the huge unequal stream.
Consider hun)an folly, and you'll quickly own.

That all the praises it can give,
By which some fondly boast they shall for ever live.
Won't pay th'impertinence of being known :
Else why should the fam'd Lydian King,
Whom all the charms of an usurped wife and state.
With all that power unfelt, courts mankind to be great.

Did with new unexperienc'd glories wait.
Still wear^ still doat on his invi-jihle ring ^

ATHENIAN SOCIETY.

xiii

VII.

Were I to form a regular thought of fame.
Which is perhaps as hard t'imagine right
As to paint Echo to the sight j
1 would not draw th' idea from an empty name j
^ Because, alas ! when we all die.
Careless and ignorant posterity,
Although they praise the learning and the wit.

And though the title seems to show
The name and man by whom the book was writ.
Yet how shall they be brought to know"
Whether that very name was he, or you, or I ?
Less should I daub it o'er with transitory praise.

And water-colours of these days:
These days, where e'en th' exti avagance of poetry
Is at a loss for figures to express
Men's follies, whimsies, and inconstancy.
And by a faint description makes them less.
Then tell us what is fame, where shall we search for it ?
Look where exalted Virtue and Religion sit
Enthron'd with heav'nly wit.
Look where you see
The greatest scorn of learned vanity
(And then how much a nothing is mankind !
Whose reason is weigh'd down by popular air.
Who by that, vainly talk of baffling death 5
And hopes to lengthen life by a transfusion of breath,

Which yet whoe'er examines right will find
To be an art as vain as bottling up of wind) :
And when you find out these, believe true fame is there,
Far above all reward, yet to which all is due 5
And this, ye great unknown, is only known in you.

VIII.

The juggling sea-god, when by chance trepanned
By some instructed querist sleeping on the sand.
Impatient of all answers, strait became
A stealing brook, and strove to creep away

Into his native sea,
Vext at their follies, murmur'd in his stream ;
But, disappointed of his fond desire.
Would vanish in a pyramid of fire.

xiv

ODE TO THE

This surly slipp'ry God, when he design'd
To furnish his escapes.

Ne'er borrow'd more variety of shapes

Than you to please and satisfy mankind,
And seem (ahuost) transform'd to water, flame, and air^

So well you answer all })haenomena's there :
Though madmen and the wits, philosophers and fools.
With all that factious or enthusiastic dotards dream.
And all the incoherent jargon of the schools ;

Though all the fumes of fear, hope, love, and shame.
Contrive to shock your minds with many a senseless doubt ;
Doubts where the Delphic God would grope in ignorance and
night.

The God of learning and of light
Would want a God* himself to help him out.

IX.

Philosophy, as it before us lies.
Seems to have borrow'd some ungrateful tastt
Of doubts, impertinencies, and niceties.
From every age through which it pass'd.
But always with a stronger relish of the last.
This beauteous queen, by Heav'en designed
To be the great original
For man to dress and polish his uncourtly mind.
In what mock habits have they put her since the Fall !
More oft in fools and madmens' hands than sages.
She seems a medley of all ages.
With a huge fardingale to swell her fustian stuff,
A new commode, a top-knot, and a ruff,
Her face patch'd o'er with modern pedantry.
With a long sweeping train
Of comments and disputes, ridiculous and vain.
All of old cut with a new dye :
How soon have you restored her charms
And rid her of her lumber and her books,
Drest her again genteel and neat.
And rather tight than great !
How fond we are to court her to our arms !
How much of Heav'n is in her naked looks I

ATHENIAN SOCIETY.

XV

X.

Thus the deluding Muse oft blinds me to her ways.
And ev'n my very thoughts transfers
And changes all to beauty, and the praise
Of that proud tvrant sex of hers.
The rebel Muse, alas! takes part
But with my own rebellious heart.
And you with fatal and immortal wit conspire
To fan th" unhappy fire.
Cruel unknown / what is it you intend ?
Ah ! could you, could you ho})e a poet for your friend !

Rather forgive what my first transport said :
May all the blood, which shall by woman's scorn be shed.

Lie upon you and on your children's head !
For you (aii ! did I think I e'er should live to see
The fatal time when that could be !)
Have e'en increas'd their pride and cruelty.
Woman seems now above all vanity grown,
Still boasting of a great unknown
Platonic champions, gain'd without one female wile.
Or the \ast charges of a smile ;
Which 'tis a shame how much of late
You've taught the cov'tous wretches to o'er-rate.
And which they've now the consciences to weigh
In the same balance with our tears.
And with such scanty wages pay
The bondage and the slavery of years.
Let the vain sex dream on, their empire comes from us.
And had they common generosity
They would not use us thus :

Well though youv'e rais'd her to this high degree.

Ourselves ai e rais'd as well as she ;
And spite of all that they or you can do,
* Tis pride and happiness enough to me
Still to be of the §ame exalted sex with you.

XI.

Alas ! how fleeting and how vain.
If even the nobler man, our learning and our wit !
I sigh when'er 1 think of it :
As at the closing of an unhappy scene

XVI

ODE TO THE

Of some great king and conqu'ror's death.
When the sad melancholy Muse
Stays but to catch his utmost breath.
I grieve this nobler work most happily begun.
So quickly and so wonderfully carry'd on.
May fall at last to interest, folly, and abuse.
There is a noon-tide in our lives.
Which still the sooner it arrives.
Although we boast our winter-sun looks bright.
And foolishly are glad to see it at its height.
Yet so much sooner comes the long and gloomy night.

No conquest ever yet begun.
And by one mighty hero carried to its height.
E'er flourish 'd under a successor or a son 3
It lost some mighty pieces through all hands it past.
And vanish'd to an empty title in the last.
For when the animating mind is fled,
(Which nature never can retain,
Nor e'er call back again)
The body, though gigantic, lies all cold and dead.

XII.

And thus undoubtedly 'twill fare
With what unhappy men shall dare
To be successors to these great unknown.
On Learning's high-established throne.
Censure, and pedantry, and pride,
Numberless nations, stretching far and wide.
Shall (I foresee it) soon with Gothic swarms come forth

From Ignorance's universal North,
And with blind rage break all this peaceful government :
Yet shall these traces of 5'our wit remain.
Like a just map, to tell the vast extent
Of conquest in your short and happy reign j
And to all future mankind shew
How strange a paradox is true,
That men who liv'd and dy'd without a name.
Are the chief heroes in the sacred list of fame.

THE

9lt|)eman ((Oracle.

PART L

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

IN

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

Question, — What are the Clouds ? and where
are they when the air is clear ?

Answer. — The clouds are of two sorts ; one an
exhalation of water, the other of a more terrestrial
matter; but where such are, when the air is clear,
seems more difficult, though not an impossibility,
to resolve. Suppose, then, a room, through which
there are some chinks for the rays of the sun to
enter — if you look upon those rays, you may plainly
discern the innumerable atoms which dance in

B

2 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

the air; — but if you go out to look for them in
the air, where the whole body of the sun has its
effect, there is not an atom to be seen, though
there are atoms there also. From this instance it
appears, that the truest representation of light is
when a darker body is near; for no man can judge
of light without darkness, nor of motion without
something fixed ; now the clouds being rarified
through an excessive heat, or drawn up a great
distance from the earth, are invisible to us, and
appear like air, through the abundance of light,
without commixture of darkness, which propor-
tionably contracts our optic nerves ; this is evi-
dent ; for, after the clearest and hottest day, when
the element begins to be a little darkened
through the approaching night, the clouds be-
come visible, and we see that which too much
light prevented before.

Quest, — What is Melancholy, its symptoms,
causes, and cure ?

Am, — A raving without fever or fury, with
fear and sadness ; it is seated in the brain and
heart : the disaffection of one makes persons
rave, of the other renders them sad or fearful ;
the fancy is always busy, for the most part intent
upon one thing, and the ideas appear improper,
distorted, and horrid ; the juices of the body con-
tracting an acid and corrosive disposition, and
thereby throwing all things out of order. The

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 3

vital spirits grow dull and languid, and the blood
little less than stagnates about the heart. The
effects thereof we may see in Bedlam every day ;
they are as various as the freaks of the unguided
fancy, which are almost infinite, or as the parti-
cular causes thereof, jealousy, superstition, love,
despair, and sometimes even a violent fit of pas-
sion or anger, which is in one degree beyond me-
lancholy, even a short madness. All the cure
that belongs to us to prescribe is diversion, which
reaches both cases. If the brain be affected with
deep thinking on one particular object, turn the
stream, if possible, to something else: — flatter,
humour, or do what you can for the same end.
For sadness, or a deep sullen temper, fear is the
best cure, which rouses the mind, and, if not car-
ried too high, sets the lazy spirits to work to
throw off the impending evil, and thereby assists
Fature in what else she has to do.

Quest. — A lady desires to know whether Fleas
have stings, or whether they only suck or bite,
when they draw blood from the body ?

Ans, — Not to trouble you. Madam, with the He-
brew or Arabic name of a flea, or to transcribe
Bocharfs learned dissertations on the little animal,
we shall, for your satisfaction, give such a descrip-
tion thereof as we have yet been able to discover.

Its skin is of a lovely deep red colour, most
neatly polished, and armed with scales, which can

II 2

4

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

resist any thing but fate and your ladyships un-
merciful fingers ; the neck of it is exactly Hke the
tail of a lobster, and, by the assistance of those
strong scales it is covered with, springs backwards
and forwards much in the same manner, and with
equal violence ; it has two eyes on each side of
its head, so pretty, that I would prefer them to
any. Madam, but yours ; and which it makes use
of to avoid its fate, and fly its enemies, with as
much nimbleness and success as your sex manage
those fatal weapons, lovely basilisks as you are,
for the ruin of your adorers. Nature has pro-
vided it six substantial legs, of great strength,
and incomparable agility jointed like a cane, co-
vered with large hairs, and armed each of them
with two claws, which appear of a horny sub-
stance, more sharp than lancets, or the finest
needle you have in all your needle-book. It was
a long while before we could discover its mouth,
which, we confess, we have not yet so exactly
done as we could wish, the little bashful creature
always holding up its two fore feet before it,
which it uses instead of a fan, or mask, when it has
no mind to be known ; and we were forced to be
guilty of an act both uncivil and cruel, without
which we could never have resolved your ques-
tion. We were obliged to unmask this modest
one, and cut off its two fore legs to get to the face;
which being performed, though it makes our ten-
der hearts as well as yours almost bleed to think

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

5

of it, we immediately discovered what your Lady-
sliip desired, and found Nature had given it a
strong proboscis, or trunk, as a gnat or muschetto,
though much thicker and stouter, with which we
may very well suppose it penetrates your fair
hand, feasts itself on the nectar of your blood,
and then, Hke a Httle faithless fugitive of a lover,
skips away, almost invisibly, nobody knows whi-
ther.

Quest. — What are the utmost effects of Joy,
and how does it operate on the affections ?

Ans. — Sudden Joy kills, as well as sudden
Grief. Diagoras Rhodius, hearing his three sons
were victorious at the Olympic games in one day,
died immediately in that transport of joy ; and so
did Dionysius, Sophocles, and Phillipides, upon
winning the bays from other stage-players : and,
what is more astonishing, Zeuxis, that famous
painter, having made the portraiture of an old
woman very oddly, died with laughing at it.
Grief destroys a man by a violent agitation of the
spirits, and sudden condensation again, whereby
they are too much pressed, their avenues ob-
structed, and their intercourse with the air hin-
dered ; so that the heart, wanting respiration, is
stifled. Joy produces the same effect from con-
trary causes, namely, by a too great dilatation of
the spirits : they who die for joy are of a sanguine,
?oft, and rare contexture; so that when this dila-

6

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

tatioQ of spirits happens, they leave the heart
destitute of succour ; and the ventricles closing
together, they perish under the passion.

Quest, — What Nation invented Painting ?

^ns. — Some have been of opinion that the off-
spring of Abraham that went into Egypt w^ere the
first, and that they taught it to the Egyptians :
but it is more universally believed ; that the
Egyptians were the first painters, statuaries, and
philosophers, and that Greece brought painting
to perfection ; but what part of Greece is yet
doubted. Some would assign it to Sicyones,
others to Corinth, where, by drawing lines round
the extremities of a man, was rudely made the
first step to picture. The Greeks began with one
colour, and by degrees brought it to the perfec-
tion which we find in the days of Apelles. From
Greece it went to Rome, where it was almost lost
again by the inundations of the Huns, Vandals,
Goths, and Lombards ; but was restored after-
wards by Titian, Raphael, Urbin, Angelo, &c.

Although it be the opinion of a late author
that the Egyptians were the first painters ; yet
we find the most ancient writers deny it : though
in assigning the place they disagree amongst
themselves. Pliny would persuade us that one
Gyges, a Lydian, was the very first author. Theo-
phrastus would have one Polignotus, an Athe-
nian, to be the institutor thereof. But Pliny says.

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. ^

that Polignotus was a Thalian, and was the first
that painted women in single apparel, and trim-
med their heads with cauls and sundry colours.
And it is very probable that Pliny was right,
since painting with divers colours was not prac-
tised for a considerable time after the first inven-
tion ; Cleophantus of Corinth being the first au-
thor of divers colours, as Telephanes was the first
that drew with one colour only : so that after all
a full answer to the question cannot be given,
since the ancients themselves disagree about it in
their assertions.

Quest, — How is the fire made betwixt the flint
and the steel ?

Ans. — Mr. Hook, in his microscopic experi-
ments, has put the question out of all doubt.
Taking a steel and flint, and examining by a
microscope the scintillations that fell upon a
piece of white paper, he first thought them to be
small globulous pieces of melted steel, or little
particles of red hot flint; but, upon further search,
he really found that those little red particles that
fell were vitrifications of the flint and steel.

Question. — Tell me, ye learned heads, if such there be.
Nature's profound and secret mystery :

1. How this vast Orb on unseen axles turns ?

2. And unconsumed the Sun for ever burns ?

3. What unknown power gives its heat such force.
Orders its motion, and directs its course ?

8

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

4. How angry tempests drive the seas to shore.

Beat the vast swelling waves, and make them roar ?

5. When waves, like mighty islands, rise and swell,
How fish beneath those moving mountains dwell ?

6. Why servile springs do constant tribute pay
Unto their arbitrary monarch, sea ?

7. How in the hidden space of Fate's dark womb
Things are at present laid that are to come ?

8. Next the mysterious births of flowers disclose,
From the field-daisy to the garden-rose ?

9. Why such a painted coat the tulip wears ?
And why in red the blushing rose appears ?

10. Why clad in white, the innocent lily's seen ?

1 1. And how the scent comes from the jessamine ?

12. Why humble strawber ries creep along the ground ?
:|3. And why the apple struts, and looks so round ?

14. Why ivy clings to the oak's hardened waste ?

15. And why the elm by the loving vine's embraced ?

16. Why Nature did for fishes scales prepare ?

17. And clothes some beasts in wool, and some in hair ^

18. Why golden feathers do the fowls adorn ?

19. And why they chirp and sing beneath the morn ?

20. And why all these are destined to maintain
The sovereign lord of all the creatures, Man ?

Answer. — Dear friend unknown, we thus reply to thee.
And thy profound mysterious mystery :

1. As moved at first by its great Maker's troll.
It perseveres i* th' same eternal roll.

2. Vast unexhausted vulcans it compose.

Or fume turns fire, and as it burns it grows.

3. That Power which decked with light the world's first

morn.

Before the stars, or Sun itself, was born ;

4. Or streams that rushed from subterranean caves,
Or air compressed, thus vex the struggling waves.

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

9

5. As worms i' th' earth when by fierce whirlwinds rent.
For nothing's press'd in its own element.

6. Less will to more, as small to a greater fire j

The lower wave slides on, still pressed by the higher.

7. What's yet to come is not, 'tis nothing then.
And nothing can have neither how nor when.

8. Your pardon. Sir : through half should we but run.
The nurses midwifery should ne'er be done.

9. From mingled lights, so gay the tulip shows.
Or salts commix'd ; from uniform, the rose.

10. This drinks not in, but outwards beats the beams 3

11. That spends its sweets in odoriferous streams.

12. Their legs are short and weak, their stature low ;
And those must creep that cannot stand or go.

13. With a long waist, long shanks, and lofty crest j
What wonder if it overlooks the rest ? ^

14. Why do the faint and weak supporters chuse }

15. And tell me why do cripples crutches use ?

16. Them mother Nature did with scales supply.
As coats of mail, to guard the watery fry.

17. Degrees of heat bring curls, or else abate.
As in our hair, and Negro's woolly pate.

18. From different texture different colours fall ;

19. Birds love the morn, because they're poets all.

20. Who else deserves their homage and esteem ?

If he's their lord, whom should they serve but him ?

Quest. — Why are Osiers smooth one year, and
rough another, successively ?

j4ns, — It is a mistake; they are only smooth the
first year, and every succeeding year grow rougher,
by reason that the spring affords new juice for a
new formation.

10 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Quest. — Whence have we our Opium ? Whe-
ther is it hot or cold? If hot, why narcotic or
stupefying; if cold, why sudorific or procuring
sweat? Let it be what it will, how comes|it to have
that deference for those animal spirits which are
requii«ed for the motion of the heart and for respi-
ration, as very often to spare them, while it seizes
the others that communicate with the organs of
the external senses ?

Ans. — Opium is the tear that distils from pop-
pies, which at certain times in the year have inci-
sions made in them for that end. We have it
from Greece, Cabaia in the East Indies, and
Grand Cairo in Egypt. No one has ever asked,
whether opium be hot or cold ; for some ages the
opinion of the antients about its being cold having
been for a long time exploded, since upon expe-
riment it is found to be inflammable, bitter, and
sulphureous ; and of all narcotics it has the finest
sulphur; that of hembane and hemlock being
more impure, gross, and injurious. Opium is pri-
marily hypnotic, whereas other anodyne sulphurs
are so but by accident, as that of metals, minerals,
and that which lodges in native cinnabar. The
reason why treacle and mithridate provoke sweat
is from the opium that is in them. Narcotics
have in them a volatile salt, as opium and saffron,
from whence arises the proper reason of their re-
solution in the stomach when given in emulsions,
spirit of wine, or brandy. The salt is left behind,

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 11

whilst the sulphureous effluvia are conveyed to,
and circulate with the blood. It particularly
affects the nervous parts, and acts both by
demulcing, digesting, nfiollifying, &c. ; as also
by stupefying or fixing the animal spirits, by
stopping their small passages to the brain, as
also their influx into the nerves, whereby the
archeus of Nature becomes lax, inactive, and
drowsy. The reason why it affects not those
spirits which serve for respiration, pulsation,
and the motion of the heart, while the others
are stagnated, is because the dose usually pre-
scribed is but barely sufficient to affect the first
small passages it meets with, and so stupefies the
senses ; whereas a large dose would reach to the
cerebellum, where the par octavura has it rise,
the dependant channel of which being obstructed,
there ensues a universal narcosis, or stupefaction,
and by consequence death.

Quest. — What is the original cause of the
Gout ?

Ans, — ^The Gout is the product of excess and
irregularities, especially in drinking some French
wines, and other sorts of liquors that are saline
and acid ; which appears by their settling, or tar-
tar, in casks. This salsitude and sharpness causes
a pungency and pains in making its way to the
pores where Nature would eject it, and it has
often been known to break out in the finger ends,

12

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

in a dry chalky or limy substance. It is some-
times hereditary, and something like it is caused
by excessive heats and colds. A lady, who for
thirty years scarcely used her hands by reason of
the gout, being reduced by misfortune to a mean
condition and an abstemious diet, was quite de-
serted by the companion of her excesses.

Quest, — How is the Dew produced ?

ylns. — It differs from rain and snow in this,
namely, the matter of the rain and the snow are
the attractions of many days into the middle re-
gion of air, which is much more ample and vast
than the inferior, in which the dew is ingendered
from a few vapours attracted in the space of one
night, which, for want of heat, cannot ascend very
high, but falls again upon the nap of herbs and
leaves of trees like unto little pearls ; and this is
that which is called dew : this occurs in the most
temperate seasons of the year ; for when it is very
hot there can be no dew, because the matter be-
ing heated, it easily ascends on high, or else it is
easily dissipated by the heat. And if the weather
be cold this dew is congealed, and condensed, and
from thence is made that which we call the hoary
frost.

Quest, — ^Wherefore is it that, having two eyes,
we see nevertheless but one kind, or image, of the
objects ?

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

13

Ans, — Even so for having two ears no more
than one and the same sound is heard, the origin
of their motion being the same, for these two or-
gans make but one sense ; but yet provident Na-
ture has been pleased that one and the same sense
should have two instruments, to the end that, if
one should be taken from us, the other might sup-
ply the defect thereof.

Qwe^^.— What is Death ?

Ans, — Not to be, and to cease to be, is much
the same; it sometimes happens, that the more
common a thing is, the more difficult it is to ex-
plain it, as in many sensible objects. Nothing is
more easy than to discriminate life and death,
and yet to explain the nature of both is a severe
task, because the union or disunion of a most
perfect form with its matter is inexplicable. How-
ever, we shall offer those things that have given
us the greatest satisfaction in our inquiries. —
Death, or a cessation of doing and suffering, is
generally agreed to be the greatest evil in Nature,
because it is a destruction of Nature itself ; but why
it should be represented so terrible, is as great a
paradox as a certain knowledge of what death
really is. This is the common plea of mortals ;
here we know% and are known, and all the enter-
prizes we take in hand, — we have the satisfaction
of reflection, and a review when they are past;
but dying deprives us of knowing what we are

14

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

doing, or what other state we are commencing.
It is a leap in the dark, not knowing where we
shall light. But this is a weakness, which, as it
makes men anticipate their misery, so it enlarges
it too. We look upon Nature with our eyes, not
with our reason, or we should find a certain
sweetness in mortality, for that can be no loss
which can never be missed or desired again. As
Caligula passed by, an old man requested him
that he might be put to death. Why, says the
Emperor, are you not already dead ? There is
something in death, sometimes at least, that is
desirable by wise men, who know it is one of the
duties of life to die, and that life would be a sla-
very if the power of death were taken away. We
had the curiosity to visit two certain persons ; one
had been hanged, and the other drowned, and
both of them very miraculously brought to life
again ; — we asked what thoughts they had, and
what pains they were sensible of? The person
that was hanged said, he expected some sort of a
strange change, but knew not what ; but the pangs
of death were not so intolerable as some sharp
diseases; nay, he could not be positive whether
he felt any other pain than what his fears created.
He added, that he grew senseless by little and lit-
tle, and at the first his eyes represented a brisk
shining red sort of fire, which grew paler and
paler, till at length it turned into a black, after
which he thought no more, but insensibly acted

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHV.

15

the part of one that falls asleep, not knowing how
or when. The other gave almost the same ac-
count ; and both w©re dead, apparently, for a con-
siderable time. These instances are very satisfac-
tory in cases of violent death, and for a natural
death I cannot but think it yet much easier.
Diseases make conquest of life by little and little,
therefore the strife must be less where the inequa-
lity of power is greater.

Quest. — What is Individuation; or wherein
consists the Individuality of a thing ?

Ans, — Individuation is the unity of a thing
with itself, or that whereby a thing is what it is.

To begin with those species of body which are
not properly organized, which have neither life
nor sense, as stones, metals, &c. In these, indi-
viduation seems to consist in nothing but greater
or less ; take the less part of a stone away, you
may still call it the same stone; take an equal
part with the remains, that individuation ceases,
and they are two new individuals. Divide a
stone, &c. as often as you please, every part of it
will be a stone still, another individual stone, as
much as any in the mountain or quarry it was
first cut out of, even though reduced to the mi-
nutest sand, or, if possible, a thousand times less.
But when we take one step farther, and proceed
a degree higher to the vegetable kingdom, the
case is far otherwise, and indeed Nature seems to

l6 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

be still more distinct, and, as it were, careful in its
individuation the higher it rises, till at last it
brings us to that great transcendental individual,
the only proper uncompounded essence, the One
God, blessed for ever. — ^To return to plants: their
individuation consists in that singular form, con-
texture, and order of their parts, whereby they
are disposed for those uses to which Nature has
designed them, and by which they receive and
maintain their beings. For example : in a tree,
from which though you take the branches, it
crows, receives nourishment from the earth, main-
tains itself, and is still a tree, which the parts
thereof are not when separated from the rest;
for we cannot say every part of a tree is a tree, as
we can every part of a stone is still a stone ; but
if this tree be cloven in two or more pieces, or
felled by the roots, this contexture and orderly re-
spect of the parts one to another ceases ; its essence
as a tree is destroyed, its individuation perishes,
and it is no more a tree, but a stump, or timber.
Let us proceed a degree higher, to merely sensible
creatures, who are not so immediately depending
on the earth, the common mother, as the plants,
nor rooted to it as they are, but walk about,
and have, in respect of that, an independent exist-
ence, and are a sort of world by themselves. And
here the individuation consists in such a particu-
lar contexture of their essential parts, and their
relation one towards another, as enables them to

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. I7

exert the operations of the sensible or animal life.
Thus, cut off the legs, or any other parts of an
animal, it is the same animal still; but cut off its
head, or take away its life, and it is no longer
that individual animal, but a mere carcase, and
will, by degrees, resolve itself into common mat-
ter again, or, rather, be transmigrated into some
other form. To ascend now to the highest rank
of visible beings — the rational. The Individuation
of man appears to consist in the union of a ra
tional soul with any convenient portion of fitly
organized matter. Any portion of matter duly
qualified, and united to the soul by such an
union as we experience, is immediately indivi-
duated by it, and, together with that soul, makes
a man ; so that, if it were possible for one soul to
be clothed over and over at different times with all
the matter in the universe, it would in all those
distinct shapes be the same individual man. Nor
can a man be supposed in this case to differ more
from himself, than he does when he is an infant,
or just passed an embryo, from himself when of
adult or decrepid age ; he having, during that
time, changed his portion of matter over and
over; as, being fat and lean, sick and well, lost
by bleeding, excrement, perspiration, &c. ; gained
again by aliment; and perhaps not one particle,
or but very few of the first matter which he took
from his parents and brought v^^ith him into the
world, now remaining. And thus much by way

c

1? THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

of essay towards the resolution of this noble
question.

Quest, — Whether there is any crisis of time
wherein persons have extraordinary accidents as
to fortune or misfortune ?

Ans, — The Sacred Writ censures the observers
of days, times, and seasons, the noted supersti-
tion which at that time was very common, and at
this day is not quite effaced. That upon certain
revolutions of time some things extraordinary
have happened, and to such persons as were not
at all superstitious in that point, is very certain.
We read, Heylin. Geog. p. 734, that on a Wed-
nesday Pope Sextus the First was born, on the
same day made a monk, created general of his or-
der, made cardinal, chosen pope, and finally on
the same day inaugurated. Also, it is observed,
in Stow's Annals, p. 812, Thursday was observed
to be a day fatal to King Henry VIII. and to all
his posterity, for he himself died on Thursday the
28th of January, King Edward the Sixth on
Thursday the 6th of July, Queen Mary on Thurs-
day the 17th of November, and Queen Elizabeth
on Thursday the 24th of March. But these ob-
servations are warrantable, being made after the
time was expired, and reputed rather as accidental
than necessary, as by chance a man may throw
ambs-ace three or four times together without
being compelled by fate or destiny ; for, if a man
throws, he must throw something, and there is

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 1^

as much reason that he should throw ambs-ace
four times together as any other four numbers
that shall be named successively. He that acts
without reason, and believes things for which he
can give no account at all, deserves to be excluded
from the society of rational creatures.

Quest. — Whether the common notion of the
world be true, that these latter ages, for some
centuries past, have a less share of learning, judg-
ment, and invention, than those which have pre-
ceded, because we find them deficient in finding
out such advantageous arts as their forefathers
have done r

Jns, — It is disputable v/hether the invention
of useful arts is infinite or not ; but, upon a sup-
position of truth in both cases, we see no reason
to conclude this age comes short of the preceding,
as to priority in arts and sciences. We will consi-
der the first part of the dilemma, and suppose
the invention of useful arts infinite ; if so, we
must conclude, as we find by daily experience,
that at length arising to be too numerous, some
would be lost and supplanted by others, which
would not be if the first were more useful.
Again, if the invention of useful arts be finite,
they can be but once invented ; so that those who
have already effected it cannot pretend a pre-
eminence to those that follow, who also would
have found the same out if they had lived before,

c 2

/

^0

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

as is seen by the great improvements daily made
in what is invented. Further, it is a vulgar error
that any valuable art is of one man's inventing ;
as, for instance, in sailing, how many ages passed
before the invention of sails, or a commodious
building of ships, or before the compass was in-
vented, and how long before the invention of the
compass was the nature of the loadstone disco-
vered ? If we take a view of the liberal sciences,
can we believe that Aristotle's philosophy was all
his own, or rather a compendium of what
other philosophers had written before, and by
him methodically compiled, with some additions?
As to curious mechanics, as some are improved,
and as the subject is copious, so some are invented,
^lian and Pliny mentioned one Myrmecides,
who wrought out of ivoty a chariot, with four
wheels, and as many horses, in so little room that
a little fly might cover them all with her wings ;
as also a ship, with all the tackling to it, no big-
ger than that a small bee might cover it with her
wings. Though these were great curiosities, and
probably of one man's invention, we need not
seek beyond the limits of our Island for its par-
allel. In the twentieth year of Queen Elizabeth,
one Mark Scaliot made a lock, consisting of eleven
pieces of iron, steel, and brass, all which, toge-
ther with a pipe-key to it, weighed but one grain
of gold ; he made also a chain, consisting of forty-
three links, whereunto having fastened the lock
and key before mentioned, he put the chain

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY,

about a fiea*s neck^ which drew them all with
ease. See the inventions and experiments of the
Royal Society, which will abundantly convince
any one that our age has as active and busy spirits
for invention as any former age in the world.

Quest. — Why men dream of things they never
thought of?

Ans. — We deny they ever do ; nay, it is im-
possible they ever should, unless in divine dreams,
and that of such a nature that both the thing and
the notion thereof should be revealed together;
for the fancy, we own, has power to join things
together when they are before in the mind, or to
conceive monsters and impossibilities out of real
things, sleeping as well as waking. For example,
I have the notion of myself, a horse, a road,
thieves, water, fire, a house, night, or what else
you might name, treasured up in my memory :
these my fancy in a dream may chance to shuffle
together, and make me think I am on horseback,
and upon the road, that I there meet with thieves,
that I take the water to avoid them, and lodge in
a house which in the night-time happens to be on
fire. These things we have all thought of before,
taken distinctly or asunder, but never just in that
very order. So in fictitious beings, beings of rea-
son as some metaphysicians, or more properly
of fancy as others, when we make impossible
conjunctions of things. I have seen a man, I
have seen a dog; out of these two real things

24

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

fancy forms one fictitious being, either sleeping or
waking, and makes a monstrous creature, partly-
canine, and partly human, which a painter can
describe on paper, though it first must have a
being in his own fancy. All this, we own, the
fancy has power to perform, but never to start
any notion absolutely new, and independent on the
frame of things before treasured in the memory.

Quest, — What becomes of Smoke ?

^7is, — It ascends into the air, and, if in great
quantity, forms a sort of a cloud, as we may see
if we will but take the pains to go half a mile out
of London ; if in smaller, it is dissipated by the
winds, or lost in the vast tracts of air, as a little
water when spilt on great heaps of dust; for that it
is annihilated none can be so foolish as to conceive.

Quest. — ^Of what antiquity are Epitaphs and
Elegies ?

^ns. — Many instances of Epitaphs in prose and
in verse may be collected from the old Greek
poets and Historians, who yet were but children
compared to the Chaldeans and Egyptians. But
the most ancient precedent of epitaphs must be
that recorded in the most antient history, namely,
the Old Testament, 1 Sam. vi. l8 ; where it is re-
corded, that the great stone erected as a memorial
unto Abel, by his father Adam, remained unto
that day in being, and its name was called " the
stone of Abel;" and its elegy was, " Here was shed

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

23

the blood of righteous Abel;" as it is also called
4000 years after, Matt, xxiii. 35. And this is the
origin of monumental memorials and elegies.

Quest. — How does a nettle sting ? whether by
leaving part in the flesh, as a bee its sting, or by
what means ?

Jlns. — That soft down which covers the leaves
is in all probability the substance which, being
darted in the small pores of the flesh, and by
reason of its peculiar configuration sticking fast
therein, gives such torment to the part afflicted,
much after the same manner as cow-itch, though
more pungent and violent. Now this configura-
tion, suppose humated oraculeated, when the net-
tle is violently and suddenly pressed, seems to be
lost and destroyed, the little stings being broke
oflT, or blunted one against another, which is the
reason a nettle never stings when we press it hard
between our fingers.

Quest. — Whether Riches and Honour are really
of that intrinsic value as the eager and general
thirst after them would argue ?

J)7S. — It has been affirmed that opinion is the
rate of things ; but a truer maxim is, that reason
is the true rate of things, and truth is always itself
without change. When, if I take my measure
in any thing according to my opinion to-day, I
may change them again to-morrow, and both
times miss the truth, and 80 make a third choice.

24 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

which fully shews the etymology of an opinionist,
viz. one that looks only on the surface, or ap-
pearance of things, which is a very mean charac-
ter for a rational being. Riches or poverty are as
they are used, and not as they are esteemed, un-
less by Vv^ise men. A man cannot be unhappy
under the most depressed circumstances, if he .
uses his reason, not his opinion : for those ends
it was sent him ; and the most exalted fortunes
are, if reason be not consulted, the subject of a
wise man's pity. Bajazet the first, after he had
lost the city of Sebastia, and therein Orthobulus
his eldest son, as he marched with his great army
against Tamerlane, heard a country shepherd
merrily diverting himself with his homely pipe,
as he sat upon the side of a mountain, feeding his
poor flock. The king stood still a great while
listening to him, to the great admiration of his
nobility about him ; at last, fetching a deep sigh,
he broke forth into these words, O happy shep-
herd, who hadst neither Orthobulus nor Sebas-
tia to lose !"

Quest. — Whether Birds have any government?

Ans. — The bee, and they are the Muses'
birds, certainly have, and that a very regular
one. But, lest any should be so unkind to
degrade those pretty creatures into flies or in-
sects, we will instance in some of a little larger
wing. All birds, and beasts, and fishes too, have
thus much of government, that the weaker obeys,

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 25

and the stronger rules ; but still, whether there is
any other settled subordination of power amongst
them, we suppose, is the question. It is observed
in all the season-birds, or those which go and
come at stated times of the year, that they fly in
troops, and use a constant order in their flight, re-
garding the wind, and throwing themselves into
such a body as is most convenient, either to move
against or with it as their occasions serve. They
have, besides, their scouts and advanced guards
before, to scour the country, or discover an enemy.
Read Bergarak's Superccelestial Navigations; and
you will have the most exact account of their or-
der, laws, government, and manner of living, that
you can anywhere meet with.

Quest, — Whether Society or Solitude be most
preferable, in order to the noblest ends of man ?

Ans, Some of the best thoughts on both sides
may be met with in Mr. Cowley's Essay for Soli-
tude, and Mr. Evelyn's against it. Honest old
Aristotle has summed up almost all that can be
said in a few words. " A solitary life," says he,
" is either brutal or divine, above or below a
man." Whence his other assertion is clear, that
man must be a poetical, or, if you will, a social
animal. We must confess, could we believe a
man answered the end of his creation by an as-
cetic hermetical life, we do not doubt but it
would give the highest pleasure he is capable of
in the world, by contemplation and meditation.

26

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

But we are not yet so hapjoy^ nor ougiit we to be
sOj — that being a cowardly sort of content^ which
is got by running away from whatever displeases.
Should all good men thus take a whim of leaving
the world, what would become of it ? And would
it not be just such a piece of justice and kindness,
as for all the physicians in a nation to go and live
in a wilderness, lest their patients should infect
them ? We do not in the least doubt but that it
is much more difficult to live honestly in the midst
of so many thousand temptations, which are un-
avoidable in this world, than to do so when retired
from all things of that nature. But, though diffi-
cult, it is possible, and the more difficulty the
more honour. Not but that we think the greatest
trial a truly good man will have of his virtue,
while he remains on the scene of action, lies on
the contrary side to that where it is generally sus-
pected. He has more need of his patience than
his temperance ; and he must be better humoured
than most men, if, when he once knows it well, he
does not almost lose all his charity for this world.

Quest. — What think you of the Milky Way in
the heavens ?

j4ns. — It is amusing to consider the extrava-
gant fancies of the poets and some of the ancient
philosophers about it. Some say that when Juno
suckled Hercules, and discovered who it was, she
spilt her milk there ; others that it is the space of
heaven which the Sun's chariot burnt by the ill

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 2J

driving of Phaeton ; others the j3lace where
Apollo fought the giants, the road of the gods
leading to Jupiter's palace, the residence of he-
roes, the mansion of the virtues, the highway of
souls, with innumerahle more such whims. The
former philosophers, particularly Aristotle, held
it to be a meteor, fed by plentiful exhalations
from the earth, and fired or irradiated by the stars
in this place. This opinion prevailed till the use
of long telescopes, which discover an innumer-
able company of small stars there, which are not
visible to the naked eye; and it is generally con-
cluded that it is nothing but stars, which being at
too great a distance to transmit their light to us
distinctly, the same is associated and united to-
gether thereby causing a whiteness, or a weak
and imperfect light.

Quest, — What is the reason of the Polarity of
the Loadstone, and that a needle touched with it
turns towards the North ? and what is the reason
of the Variation of the Compass in some places ?

j4m\ — It appears the earth itself is the great
magnet : when a bar of iron has stood long in the
window, that end of it which is next the earth
will have the same virtue which the loadstone has.
Mr. Boyle, in his book of the usefulness of Ex-
perimental Natural Philosophy, observed that a
loadstone heated red hot lost its attractive virtue,
and by cooling it again, he gave its extremes a
polarity ; and, by refrigerating the same end, some-

38

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

times North, and sometimes South, changed the
poles at pleasure ; and this change was wrought
not only by cooling it directly North or South,
but perpendicularly, that end of it which was to-
wards the ground turning towards the North,which
shews the magnetic nature of the earth, its effluvia
being able to impart a magnetic faculty to the
loadstone itself. Now, if this terraqueous globe be
mostly earth under the North pole, the mystery is
plainly resolved ; or if it be the most perfect earth
there, and not dust or sand, by the burning of the
sun, or be not overcome with restringency of ice
and cold, the case is yet the same. Hence the
solution of the variation of the needle is also plain.
I am assured that, between the shore of Ireland,
France, Spain, Guinea, and the Azores, the North
point varies towards the East ; at some part of the
Azores it deflects not on the other side of the
Azores, and this side of the Equator, the North
point of the needle wheels to the West, so that in
the latitude 36^ near the shore the variation is
about 1 1 degrees : but on the other side of the
Equator it is quite otherwise ; for in Brasilia the
South point varies 12 degrees into the West ; but
elongating from the coast of Brasilia toward the
shore of Africa, it varies eatward, and arriving at
the Cape de las Aquilas, it rests in the meridian,
and looks neither way ; the cause of which varia-
tions is the inequality of the earth, variously dis-
posed, and indifferently mixed with the sea, the
needle drives that way where the greater and most

HISTORY AND rHILOSOPHV. ^

powerful part of the earth is placed ; for whereas
on this side the Azores the needle varies Eastward,
it is occasioned by that vast tract of part of Eu-
rope and Asia seated eastward. At Rome there
is a less variation than at London ; for on the West
side of Rome are seated the great Continents of
France^ Spain, and Germany ; but unto England
there is almost no earth Westward.

Quest. — Is it not better to die than to live ?

Ans, — The question ought to have particula-
rized one of these, — whether is it better for a good
man or a bad man, an animal or a vegetable, to
die or live? — and then a direct solution might have
been given. But suppose the question means in
general terms, we answer that life is much more
desirable than death. By a common instinct of
self-preservation, all creatures shun that great
evil, death. It is the greatest of all evils, because
a destruction of all good. A creature is much
more noble in its due proportions and shapes,
than when it lies in its corruption or chaos of
earth ; in the last there is nothing in it desirable
in respect either of itself, or the rest of the crea-
tion, but in the first there are particular impresses
of and communications from the great divine ori-
ginal good ; nay a good man himself would be
afraid of the grave w^ere he not in hopes of living
again. Life is the all of every being, being a
part of Him who is the fountain of life. What
perfection, happiness, and enjoyment, can be ex-

30 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

pectedin nothingness ? All that can be pretended
in favour of the contrary opinion is the absence
of evil. " There/' say they, " we shall meet with
no crosses, disappointments, pain, misery, and, in
short, none of the evils of life." To which I an-
swer, that the presence of good is more desirable
than the absence of evil. Again, every individual
animal of the creation may be happy. Birds,
beasts, and fishes, seek no further than moderate
well-tempered elements, to fly, breathe, and
swim in, and sufficient food to live upon ; when
they enjoy this, they can seek no farther ; and if
so they must be happy, for if not they would
seek for happiness in something else. Man only?
that irregular restless lump, who knows no me-
dium of things, but is much more happy or mi-
serable than all the rest of the creation, is not left
destitute of his rest and end, namely God. If he
will be so inconsiderate, notwithstanding his fre-
quent disappointments, to renew his search after
happiness, where it is not to be found, he has
only himself to blame, but he has no cause to ac-
cuse his Creator, who has taken sufficient care for
his happiness, unless he expects to be made happy
against his will.

Quest, — Looking over Sir William Templets
Memoirs, I met with a story concerning an old
parrot, belonging to Prince Maurice, that readily
answered to several questions promiscuously put
to him. By what means did this creature attain

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 31

to the knowledge of doing that which to human
reason seems so very improbable ?

Ans, — Scaliger tells us, that he saw a crow in
the French king s court, that was taught to fly
at partridges, or any other fowls, from the fal-
coner's hand. Cardinal Assanio had a parrot
that was taught to repeat the Apostle's Creed ver-
batim in Latin. And in the Court of Spain there
was one that could sing the Gamut perfectly : if
at any time he was out, he would say, Nova
Bueno that is, " Not well ;" but when he was right,
he would say,'^Bue-nova,"" Now it is well." In the
time of war betwixt Auoustus Caesar and M. An-
tonius, there was a poor man at Rome, who, pur-
posing to provide for himself against all events,
had this contrivance. He bred up two crows with
his utmost diligence, and brought it to pass that
in their prating language one would salute Cae-
sar, and the other Antonius. This man, when
Augustus returned conqueror, met him upon the
way, with his crow in his hand, which ever and
anon came out with his " Salve, Caesar, Victor, Im-
perator;" "Hail, Caesar, the conqueror and emperor.'*
Augustus, dehghted herewith, purchased the bird
at the price of 20,000 deniers of Rome. It would
be too long to mention the tractability of the dra-
gon Seneca speaks of, or what strange things were
performed by Emanuel of Portugal's elephant; the
quickness of some dogs at Rome and Constanti-
nople. Our thoughts upon the whole are these :
That the novelty of things makes them wonderful,

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

when there is not the least reason for wonder^ if
we consider the nature of such things. We will
grant it possible for a parrot to answer distinctly
to such and such questions ; but this action needs
no reason to the performance of it, since it may
be effected without it, viz, by an habituated idea
of things. Not only man, but the inferior ranks
of animals receive their ideas by the senses. Sup-
pose the ear, for that comes nearest the question,
such and such sounds oft repeated, and such and
such actions immediately preceding or imme-
diately following such sounds, must necessarily
form a complex idea both of the sound and action ;
so that when either such action or such sound is
repeated, an idea of the other must necessarily
attend it. Thus dogs are taught to fetch and
carry ; and thus parrots talk when they speak
more words than one together ; as, for instance,
" Poor Poll these words being often repeated
together, if one of them be mentioned and the
other left, there must necessarily be an idea of
the other sound, because custom and habit chain
them together ; and if two words, why not three ?
and if three, why not many together? There
needs but a little more diligence, care, and fre-
quent instruction. Some wonder to see an ele-
phant dance, when all is nothing but the pure
effect of custom upon repetition of complex ideas.
The manner of teaching an elephant to dance has
been thus practised. They bring a young ele-
phant upon a floor, lieat it underneath, and play

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

upon the music while he hfts up his legs and
shifts his feet about by reason of the torture of the
heat ; this often practised, he does so upon the bare
sound of music ; so that it shews, when he dances
after music, that it is not from any principles
of reason, but from the concatenation of the two
ideas of heat and music, which custom has habi -
tuated him to. And thus it is with dogs, birds,
dancing horses, parrots, magpies, &c.

Quest, — Whence arose the custom of allowing
the Benefit of Clergy to some offenders ? If it
was to transcribe manuscripts, as some say, be-
fore the art of printing was known, why is it
still continued, since that reason has long ago
ceased ?

/Ins. — In the extreme times of Popish igno-
rance, when monks themselves could scarcely
understand or read Latin, and the common peo-
ple were wholly ignorant of it, the monks had
that privilege of reading their neck-verse, what-
ever villainies they committed, whilst the illi-
terate vulgar died for it; and thence came the
Benefit of Clergy. But why it is yet continued
we know not, unless those Statutes were never
repealed since the monks flourished in this king-
dom. Possibly the first custom in this Nation
came from the old Romans, who sometimes par-
doned criminals upon the repeating of

Tu potis es nigrum, vitio prefigore Theta."
D

34 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Quest. — What is your opinion of the star that
appeared at our Saviour's birth, and went before
the wise men ? its nature, magnitude, height, and
duration r

Arts. — It is very probable that it was a sort of
Comet, apparently like a common star, because
it was so low as to seem to stand over the place
where our Saviour was born ; for, if it had been
but as high as the Moon, it would have appeared
yet farther off when the wise men came to Beth-
lehem. For the rest, we find no credible author
amongst the ancients that makes any mention
of it.

Quest. — When the Enghsh and French fleets
fought, many persons who saw the battle could
discern the flashing of fire, but heard no guns ?
The spectators stood upon a high hill by the sea ;
and others, who were forty miles behind them
within land, heard the guns very perfectly. —
Query, why those within sight, at ten leagues
distance, could not hear, while those who were so
much farther oflT could ?

Ans, — Sound cannot proceed farther than the
first body it meets with ; all others are mock
sounds, or echoes by a reverberation, or repercus-
sion of the air : therefore the sound meeting with
that hill whereupon your acquaintance stood,
was made the first repercussion, which would an-
swer in the next valley to it within-land ; and as

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 35

many valleys as it met with, so many echoes it
made; so that when the sound came to those per-
sons so far within-land, it might very well be
heard several minutes before it reached them. It
was impossible to hear it upon the first hill, for
want of a proper echo between that and the sea.
If your acquaintance had turned their backs, and
hearkened from the echoes within -land, they
might have heard a faint repetition of it that way.

Quest. — What is the reason that, by applying
the empty shells of some shell-fishes to your ear,
you may therein perceive a noise like the roaring
of the sea ?

Ans. — ^Those shells have a gyral conformation,
not altogether unlike that of the ear itself. Now
the air being imprisoned in the turnings and
windings within, has that particular rushing
sound, either in forcing itself out, or passing from
one part thereof to another, being forced in by the
motion of the exterior air, and wandering about
in those meatuses, or curious labyrinths, wherein
it is received.

Quest. — By what means a rudder guides a
ship ?

Ans. — By making a small sort of a stream, or
current, which takes the ship or boat either on
one side or the other, and turns it accordingly
which way soever the steersman pleases.

D 2

36* THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Quest, — Why do such as would shoot right
wink with one eye?

Ans. — Because there is but one right Hne from
one point to another ; but from two eyes there are
tvvo lines to one object, vvliich^ though they both
terminate tliere, yet do not begin together ; there-
fore two eyes beginning at several points^ cannot
both of them act directly, unless he shoot with
two guns at once.

Quest. — Who are the most happy in the world,
wise men or fools r

Ans. — Much may be said of either, but the
manner very different. If the fool be the happier,
the world is a very desirable place, there being
such a quantity of happy men in it. The Su-
preme Being is essential happiness ; those, there-
fore, that act the most like him are happiest.
There is but one right line, and infinite crooked
ones; one wisdom, but follies innumerable ; one
real goodness, but divers appearances of it ; and
but one best way to every thing, and to judge of
every thing that is reason, or understanding.
Here only is the paradox ; the fool's happiness
consists in a privation of grief, and the happiness
of a wise man in possession of good ; which,
being a little considered, the result of this next
question will answer the first ; namely, which
would be more miserable, a wise man that wanted
his good, or a fool that had a sense of his grief?

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 37

In this reverse the wise man would be more mise-
rable ; because he that wants his happiness wants
every thing, but he that has a sense of grief may
have a sense of happiness. Now this reverse, or
contrary to the reverse, must necessarily make him
happy ; namely, his possession of good is prefer-
able to the fool's privation of grief.

Quest. — What is the reason of, and when be-
gan, that custom of changing the Pope's name at
his inauguration ?

Arts. — Pope Gregory the Fourth being dead in
the year 842, they chose for the sovereign bishop
of Rome a Roman of noble blood, illustrious edu-
cation, but of a harsh name, viz. Hogsface: there-
fore, because this name seemed to him disagree-
able to such a holy function, and remembering
that our Saviour changed the name of St. Peter,
he also changed his name, and called himself
Sergius after his father. From thence came the
custom observed to this day, that he who is chosen
Pope may at his pleasure take what name pleases
him best; but they keep the custom of taking the
names of some of their predecessors.

Quest. — Whether the sky be of any colour?

j4ns, — No, if you mean by sky the aether ; nor
are clouds of any colour naturally, but what they
receive by reflection from different lights.

38 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Quest. — Whether snakes are hurtful by na-
ture ?

^ns. — Our English snakes are harmless worms,
as now almost every ploughman and old woman
knows. That which appears so dreadfully out of
its mouth, and which it brandishes so like a sting,
is only a poor innocent tongue, more soft, if pos-
sible, than a silken thread. It has teeth, but
never bites any thing, though highly provoked,
unless it be a little grass. They hiss and leap at
any thing when vexed, but never do any injury.
We warn the reader never to take up by mistake
vipers in the fields instead of the other; their poi-
son, without speedy remedies, being very deadly,
though it is thought not so strong as those in
warmer climates.

Quest, — Was there ever any such execution
practised in England as hanging in chains alive?

Ans. — Many about three hundred years since,
and some few instances within two hundred years,
whence it is common that you have relation of
persons eating their shoulders, and as far as they
could reach, to preserve life a little longer than
otherwise it was possible. Under this head comes
that famous relation of the woman that kept her
father alive for a considerable time with the milk
of her own breasts.

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 39*

Quest, — Whether the force and virtues of the
old Egyptian TaHsmans, and their other magical
operations, were true and real, or only imagery,
or illusion r

Ans. — In treating upon this subject, we shall
consider it in this method. The word itself ; the
manner how it is made; what efltict (according to
the ancients) it hath produced ; and, lastly, what
our judgment is upon the whole.

The word Talisman is Arabic, and comes very
near the Hebrew v^^ord Iselem, which signifies
image, figure, or character. So far as we can
learn, Zoroaster was the first inventor of it.
Some authors tell us, that the manner of making
it is thus When such and such constellations,
aspects, &c. of stars happen, which according to
observation had such and such influences, the
artist engraved his Talismani, or figure, in the
nature of an hieroglyph ick, signifying such and
such mystery, upon some metal, precious stones,
rings, or medals, which they believed would re-
ceive and keep the critical influences of their
designed aspects. Some were to work cures,
some to incite such and such passions, some to
keep away rain, hail, venomous beasts ; in short,
all sort of evils ; and others were to procure such
and such good things, according to the nature of
the aspect under which they were engraved. But
engraving would be too long an action, and would
not be finished before its proper aspect was over,

D4

*40

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

and another begun ; therefore, we are rather of
the opinion of those authors, who inform us, that
the metal was ready melted, and at the critical
moment cast into a mould, where it received the
impression designed by its author, under its re-
spective constellation.

It would be too long to tell the w^orld that
many things have really been effected by (or
at least under the shew of) a talismanical vir-
tue, amongst the Egyptians; besides, in other
histories there are various instances. VirgiPs
brazen fly and golden horseleach, with which
he hindered flies from entering into Naples,
and killed all the horseleeches in a ditch. The
5gure of a stork, placed by Apollonius at Con-
stantinople, to drive all the storks out of that
country ; as also that of a gnat, which cleared
Antioch of those troublesome insects. Thus we
read that the people of Hampts, in Arabia, and
those of Tripoli, in Syria, preserved themselves
from venomous beasts by the talisman of a scor-
pion, placed upon one of their towers. Paracelsus
mentions one against the pestilence, Julius Risto-
nius a Prato had one powerful against the gout,
with innumerable more such instances ; which
not only shew that there have been such things
as Talismans, but that really such eflfects have
been, and as was supposed by virtue of their cha-
racteristic.

We shall also give the reasons why the aa-

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 41

cieiits believed such virtues in theui ; viz, be-
cause they really believed the stars had such
and such influences, which might be communi-
cated by sympathy, as our sympathetic pow^der,
wound-salve, &c.

Now, and according to the observations for-
in.erly made upon the ophites, which having veins
in it, like a serpent, cure the bite of a serpent by
application ; the squill and poppy, which resem-
ble a head, cure the head-ache ; eye-bright cures
sore eyes, which it resembles ; and innumerable
more such unaccountable things in nature.

Our opinion is, that really such cures and other
miracles have been wrought, but it was only by the
help of the devil, not of Talismans ; and in this
the devil imitates God, who was pleased to make
use of a brazen serpent to cure the Israelites. Thus
a silly juggler, " Blow here, Presto be gone," &c.
which was only mock and pretence, when some-
thing else was the cause of conveyance. Under this
may be reckoned charms for tooth-ache, agues,
&c. as also unlawful and wicked trials about
witches, and a hundred observations, which weak
and ignorant people are guilty of.

But to prove Talismans, charms, &c. to be all
abuse, cheat, and illusion, we shall offer:

That every thing acts by its first or second
qualities, or by its substance, whence proceed
all properties and sympathies ; not by their quali-

*42

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

ties^ as heat, cold, hardness, softness, &c. ; since
then it oight do in other shapes : not in their sub-
stance, for sevc - al sorts of matter will serve to make
a Talismiui. To which we might add, that it is
not the figure neither, which is no more proper to
receive the influences of such an aspect, than the
skin of the animal itself stuffed with straw: those
tilings, which cure by occult and unknown qua-
lities, do it not by virtue of their figure, but by
the property of their substance, which remains
when they are despoiled of their figure, and
turned into powder. In short, the whole is a
wicked, superstitious, ridiculous juggle, and the
devil has had too many fair opportunities of such
things for his interest.

Quest, — Whether a main does not sin as much
in spending his money foolishly, as in being
covetous ?

Ans, — Upon some accounts, we think more;
for a prodigal man, in our judgment, is a worse
member of the commonwealth than the covetous;
because a man may be covetous, without injuring
any body but himself, and some or other will
at least get something by his death ; but the
prodigal man not only ruins his own family,
but very frequently all besides that have any
thing to do w ith him ; when he dies, cheats
all besides the worms. And so fare thee well,
Bristol.

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. S9

Quest, — Who was the first Philosopher r
Ans. — It is affirmed by Laertius that Thales
was the first among the Greeks in natural philoso-
phy and mathematics. He is called by Plutarch
the inventor of philosophy ; by Justin Martyr the
most ancient of philosophers; by Tertullian the
first that made an inquiry after natural causes.

Quest. — Whether, when a horse neighs, it is a
rejoicing or because he is angry ?

Ans. — We believe neither; but rather a desire
of company, as is frequently observed in all the
race both old and young.

Quest. — Why do parrots, magpies, &c. talk,
when several other birds cannot, if the same
means be used ?

Ans. — From a natural instinct of imitating
sounds, and not, as some believe, from a proper
formation of their tongue; for then those which had
tongues the most like men, as a dog, cat, and
other quadrupeds, would speak better than parrots.

Quest. — From what principle had idolatry its
first rise ?

Ans. — The most common opinion upon the
origin of idolatry is, that it began by adoration of
the sun and stars ; men being naturally inclined
to respect what they imagine the most noble ge-
neral causes of their felicity, as the heavens and

40

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

the stars ; and afterwards they came to pay the
same homage to the greater part of those objects
which contributed to their preservation, or was
able to do them any harm. This opinion would
not be improbable, if man had been the work of
chance, and formed after the extravagant manner
that Epicurus and many poets have imagined : —
" Gensque viidm truncis, et rupto robore nata

and if they were the authors of their own reli-
gion. But what the Scripture tells us of the cre-
ation of the world, that it was peopled by one
man only, and re-peopled after the deluge by
only one family, does not agree very well with
this hypothesis. From thence it is plain that the
chief care of the Patriarchs to their children was,
to teach them that whatever we see was the work
of an invisible God, and that no creating power
could be attributed to any thing that is the object
of our senses. It is not very likely that all the

nations of the earth should so soon foroet these in-
to

structions, and so easily confound the Creator
with his creatures, nor that they should change
their God and Religion all of a sudden ; therefore
idolatry must insensibly be introduced, and have
taken its origin from some false explanations
which have been made of the true doctrine. In
the beginning they only adored God ; and although
in the time of the Patriarchs, to whom Angels
often appeared, they had a great veneration for
these celestial spirits, yet they carefully distin-

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

41

guished this respect from divine adoration. They
beheved also soon after the beginning of the
world that the souls of just men, after their death,
were placed in the ranks of Angels, and by degrees
they were accustomed to look upon these spirits
as beings unto whom God had committed a part
of the care of the universe. After which they
came to think that, since God had given them so
much power, they might require their assistance,
and endeavour to make them favourable to them
by paying them a religious worship ; in pursuance
of which, they immediately erected statues to
them, and celebrated games and anniversary feasts
upon the day of their death ; and by degrees they
came to set up altars, consecrate temples, and
offer victims to them ; so that in a little time
the world was full of divinities; each nation
thinking it an honour to have more of them than
their neighbours, and to increase the number of
their gods, passed among them as a mark of their
intelligence. This was a mystery which the
heathens afterwards thought they were obliged to
hide from the common people, although the
learned among them were not ignorant of it.
Hesiod says freely, that the gods were good mor-
tals, who, by the will of the great Jupiter, were
become the guardians of men, and distributed
riches and the good things of this world to them.
St. Austin affirms, upon the testimony of Varro,
that, in all the writings of the heathens, it would

42

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

be very difficult to find any of their gods who
were not men. Phny, who has made such deep
inquiries into antiquity, speaking of Vespasian
and other Roman heroes, which had been placed
in the number of the gods, says, " It was a very
ancient custom of testifying their acknowledgment
to persons of merit by placing them in the num-
ber of the gods;" and as for the names of all other
divinities, they owed their birth to the splendid
actions of men^ as may be seen in consulting Isi-
dorus of Seville.

Quest. — How came the Continent of America
and the Islands adjoining, to be inhabited at first:
for surely had the people been derived from any
nation of the then known world, they could never
have lost knowledge, learning, and discipline, to
such a degree ; for it is said they had not the
use of letters ?

Ans, — Noah and his family, having been accus-
tomed to the ark, would doubtless from thence
build some sort of vessels, at least for coasting
along shores; and when they were increased, and
spread over the Northern parts of Europe, might
very probably be transported by contrary winds,
or tempests, from Denmark or Scotland, to the
Northern parts of America, it being no great dis-
tance. This will appear still more probable if we
consider that earthquakes, tempests, &c. have
caused those strange alterations in the face of Na-

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 43

ture, that many countries are now covered with
water that were formerly land, and many that
are now land were covered with water ; that some
are separated by the sea, as England and France,
which formerly lay together — of which we meet
with many examples in consulting the most an-
cient geography. Then the question will not any
longer be involved with that difficulty. As for
their ignorance, it is no argument for or against
their being or not being the sons of Noah. The
greatest part of Africa, and especially Southward,
are al too ether as illiterate as those in America,
and generally more savage.

Quest. — What is a perfect number ?

Ans. — A perfect number is that which is equal
to all its aliquot parts added together ; according
to this definition, 6 is a perfect number, because,
if you take its aliquot parts, which are ], 2, 3,
their sum will be equal to 6; again 28 is a perfect
number, because its aliquot parts, 1, 2, 4, 7, 14,
added together, make 28. Now if you will find
as many of them as you please, take the following
progression, 1, 2, 4, 8, \6, 32, &c. which it is
easy to continue in doubling every last term ; —
choose in this progression any one term, subtract
unity from it ; if the remainder is a prime num-
ber, multiply this remainder by the term imme-
diately preceding, the product will be a perfect
number; but if the remainder is no prime num-

44

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

ber, you must choose another term. This rule
will be made clear by some instances ; take the
term 4, subtract unity from it, the remainder is
3, which being multiplied by the term imme-
diately proceeding, viz. 2, the product 6 is a per-
fect number ; again, take the term 8, subtract
unity from it, the remainder is 7, multiply this
remainder by 4, the product is 28, which is a per-
fect number. But if you would take l6, because,
having taken unity from l6, the remainder, I5, is
no prime number, the product of 15, by 8, will
not be a perfect number; therefore, take the fol-
lowing term, 32, and working as is prescribed,
you will find 496 for another perfect number.

Quest. — A lady who is extremely troubled
with corns desires to know the reason ?

jl7is. — Alas, poor lady 1 There may be many
weighty reasons assigned for this sore calamity.
Perhaps her hard heart has infected her toes, and
made them as obdurate as herself; or else the little
wag Cupid is taking his vengeance upon her for
having murdered some of his humble servants, and
is turning her into stone for a flinty-hearted crea-
ture, as his cousin Apollo served Niobe ; and she
is now dying upwards as Daphne's poor toes rooted
in the ground, and if she appeases not the little
angry god quickly, she must in a few days expect
to be perfect plaster of Paris.

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 45

Quest. — Pray prescribe rules to please a pas-
sionate father, and to break myself of being pas-
sionate; which is not easy, because I take my
blood from him ?

Ans. — Never cross him when he is angry; ne-
ver do any tiling that looks like a slight upon
him ; be ready to obey his commands, and re-
member he is your father. For yourself, it is
sure enough that the inclinations we receive from
our parents are to be conquered by industry and
reason, though example teaches more forcibly
than either. Do but observe then how your fa-
ther looks when he is passionate, how he ex-
poses himself, and what weak things he speaks
and does ; and always reflect upon these, three
minutes and three quarters, precisely, by your
watch, whenever you feel yourself inclined to pas-
sion ; and this alone, we should think, as it is a
very proper, so would prove an efficacious re-
medy.

Quest, — How long has the invention of guns
been in the world ?

Ans. — According to the Portugal relations, the
gun was invented anno Christi 85, in the king-
dom of China, where most other inventions be-
gan, by one of their kings named Urtey ; but it
appeared not in Europe till 1350, when it was
found out by one Bertoldu, a German, occa-
sioned by an accident which lie saw happen in a

46

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

mixture of sulphur and nitre inclosed in a vessel
over the fire, in making an experiment in che-
mistry.

Quest, — Sailing down the River Medvvay from
Chatham to Sheerness, about six o'clock in the
morning, there appeared a strange sun, I ob-
served, about 28 degrees from the true sun to the
South, and both of an equal distance from the ho-
rizon ; the sky was a little overcast, yet not so
much but that the true sun shined pretty clearly;
the false one was much inferior to it for lustre,
yet seemed to have the same dimensions and mo-
tion ; it continued about three quarters of an hour,
and vanished gradually. From whence did this
proceed ?

Ans. — The sun fills the air with its images,
which pass through the same, unless they be re-
flected by some body that is smooth and resplen-
dent in its surface, but opaque at the bottom ;
such are looking-glasses, and also water, whether it
be upon the earth or in the clouds. Now when
a smooth cloud that is ready to fall down into
rain happens to be opposite the sun, it repre-
sents the figure or image of the sun ; and if there
happen to be another opposite to this first, it re-
flects the figure — in the same manner as a looking-
glass, opposite to that wherein we look, receives
the image from the former, and represents the
same. If no one wonders to see the represents-

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 47

tion of the sun here below in clear water^ or any
other resplendent body, it can be no great wonder
that the same sun imprints his image as well on
high as below ; not in one cloud only or two, but
in many, as Pliny observes he himself saw.
This multiplicity of suns, which are called Par-
helii, generally, though not always, happens ei-
ther about the rising or setting of the sun ; be-
cause the refraction which is necessary for seeing
them is not so well made to our eyes when the
sun is in the meridian. Also when the sun is in
the meridian he produces more heat, and does
not allow the cloud any time to stay, but dissolves
it as soon as it becomes opposite to him ; which
he does not at his rising or setting, being then
more weak. The same cause that shews us two
or three suns did also represent three moons,
under the Consulship of C. Domitius and C. Fla-
minius ; as also three other, which appeared in the
year 1315 for three months together ; which im-
pression is called Paroselene, and cannot be made
but at full moon.

Quest, — Of all callings and employments which
are the most cleanly, neat, and genteel ?

Ans, — The most cleanly is the dust-cart-man ;
the neatest the barber ; the genteelest the taylor.

Quest. — What is thought ?

^w*,— It is the act of the mind, or rather the

48

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

effect of that act ; an Ens Rationis, produced by
reflex, the \Gvy working of the soul, as being of
the essence of mind, or immaterial substance,
and consequently is actually inseparable from it,
without annihilation. Though this very effect
is not to be discovered without particular reflec-
tion, we often enough think at random, without
knowing precisely what we think of, unless we
actually rouse our minds, and reflect upon it.

Quest. — I am the father of several children,
and am very desirous to bring them up as may be
most to their advantage ; and hitherto I have ob-
served Solomon's maxim, not to spare the rod, for
fear of spoiling the child. For which I have been
much blamed, though my correction has always
been moderate ; but my accusers argue thus : the
whipping or keeping children in any awe de-
stroys their natural courage, dulls their under-
standing, and robs them of that presence of mind
which is necessary for all to have. I desire your
opinion concerning the correction and instruction
of children ?

— The proper educating of their children
ought to be the care of every parent, because
many, if not m.ost, of the irregularities of youth,
and errors and mistakes of riper years, proceed
from the want of it ; but so much wisdom is re-
quisite to be able rightly to correct and instruct
young persons, that it is not strange that so H^any
fail in their endeavours to perform it. There are

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 4^

but few general rules to be given ; persons* cir-
cumstances, as well as the natural genius, and
constitution of children, differ so much. It
is undoubtedly the best way to begin to cor-
rect them for their little faults,, as soon as they
are capable of knowing they ofTend. Mode-
rate and just correction never hurts any, though
the tempers of children must be always consi-
dered ; such as are naturally meek or heavy
should be most gently dealt with ; but those who
are obstinate or high-spirited ought to be se-
verely corrected, and not too often, though when
it is done they must always be conquered. A
child whipped with these precautions is never in-
jured ; but when it is merely done, as too often
it is, only to satisfy a foolish passion in a parent,
without observing the just limits; as sometimes
beating it unmercifully for a small fault, and at
another time overlooking several very consider-
able ones, or else always using it outrageously
whether the crime be more or less. This the
child coming in course of time to perceive ; if it
be of a soft easy temper, it often discourages it,
and makes it become very dull ; and, if sour and
haughty, it makes it more stubborn and disobe-
dient. Children are also capable of having their
judgments instructed and manners formed much
sooner than is generally thought, as we have
seen in those of some persons of quality, whose
children of ten or twelve years of age have been

50

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

as wise as youths commonly are at eighteen or
twenty. There must also be encouragements
used, as well as punishment, to make them
do well ; and such rewards should always be
given them, when they do their duty, as suits the
merit of the action. To this must also be added
the good example of those w ho instruct them ; a
wise tutor never does any thing before a child
which he would correct as a vice in him.

Quest, — What reason can you give, why the
Eastern wind should be so much colder and
sharper than the Western, seeing both are parallel
from the Sun and the Equinox ?

Ans. — A probable reason may be assigned from
the places from whence these winds come, or
which they visit in their passage. I'he Eastern
is a land-wind, and comes over vast tracts of cold
ground before it reaches our climate. The West-
ern comes from the sea, which is considerably
warmer than the land, where mixing with the va-
pours, which are accounted the cause of the
warmth of islands, it may come less sensibly
cold, than that which arrives from the contrary
quarter.

QweA'^.— What is the greatest happiness a man
can enjoy in the world r

A)}^. — A quiet conscience and a contented
mind.

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

51

Quest. — Why is Britain represented by a wo-
man sitting with a shield, &c. on the copper
coins ?

Ans. — The fancy was taken from some old
Roman coins, which represented Britain in the
same manner. There are two very hke in Cam-
den, Tab. 3. both of Antoninus Pius. On the
reverse of the one, Britain is represented sitting
on a globe, though with no spear nor shield.
On the other she is in the same posture, though
much nearer our present coins, with a shield under
her and a spear in her hand, only in the shield we
have now added the cross. Nor need the querist
go any further than Lilly's rule, for a reason why
Britain is made a woman, since Judea and all
other names of countries or regions were reckoned
of that sex and gender.

Quest. — Whether it be possible for parents to
be over-fond of their children ? And whether
the humour of some parents be not very ridicu-
lous, who are always playing with their children,
and talking of their childish employment and
actions ?

Ans. — We suppose the fondness here intended
is that of parents towards their children when in
their infancy, when the honour of being a father
first comes upon them, or when the little fools
begin first to talk and play with the great ones.
To which we reply, that to be always employed
E 2

52 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

in this manner, to plague others with the perpetual
relation of insipid childish follies, or to betray an
extravagant and immoderate affection towards
children, all these extremes are equally ridicu-
lous. But then neither do we here condemn
a very great tenderness and complaisance towards
children, not even though it should sometimes be
in private expressed by such actions as would*
if more public, appear sufficiently diverting.

Socrates told Alcibiades, who caught him play-
ing with a child, and laughed at him heartily,
that he would do well to suspend his censures
till he was himself a father. There have been m
this age persons of prudence, who recommend the
conversation with children, as soon as they begin
to shew the first dawnings of reason, as extremely
diverting, as well as innocent; and it is pity
those should ever have any of their own who do
not think so. There is nothing in the world, says
Petrarch, that is sweeter or more agreeable than
the little prattlings and looks of an infant. The
little blessings entertain us, in their way, with so
much sweetness and innocence, that nothing but
a mere barbarian can be proof against it. There
being besides this a natural tenderness and affec-
tion which is due from any person to that which
he has brought into the world, which those that
want may learn it even from brute creatures;
though the trial of their kindness, and the chief
instance of it, is in giving them a pious and in-

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPMr. 53

genuous education, and doing nothing before
them when they grow up, which they would not
have them practice. It is only to observe the
mean between a worse than brutal neglect of chil-
dren, or aversion for them, and that nauseous
fondness of some persons towards them, which
makes them appear contemptible and ridiculous.

Quest, — What is the meaning of the word
Nature ?

Arts. — It is the settled course of things, or
steady order of causes and effects never altered
without a miracle.

Quest, — What is the reason that, when we move
a fire-stick swiftly round, there appears to be a
circle of fire, although the fire is but in one place
at a time ?

Ans. — The image of things is impressed on
the brain by the optic power ; and so long as that
impression remains, we believe we see such an
image, although we see it not at all. Thus, if we
fix our eyes a considerable time upon a window,
and immediately turn them towards some darker
place we may plainly distinguish the squares, &c.
which is nothing but the image in the brain.
Now the brain being purely passive, it is impos-
sible it should not take these impressions, whether
from real or apparent objects, as it is impos-
sible for a glass not to take reflections. Thus the
fire appears circular, as in the question, because

54

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

it moves circularly. Suppose through 300 points
the eye strives to catch at every one of these
points, and at every one of them the brain re-
ceives the aforesaid impression, which impression
is circular, according to the motion of the fire ;
and the fire moving quickly, and repeating these
points several times, the impression is more sen-
sible, and not lost till renewed again, which there-
fore appears to us as one continued circle.

Quest, — Whether cutting off the bottom root
in planting of trees, as is usual, does not more
hurt than good ?

Ans. — No. The nearer any thing is to indi-
viduation, the nearer it comes to the nature of
immaterial bearings, and by consequence is the
more perfect ; as, for instance, a long sucker acts
not only to maintain itself, but the whole trunk
for which it acts ; but a short sucker saves so
much for the nourishment of the trunk, as it
spares compared to a longer.

Quest. — I am about nineteen years old, and
have been often desired by my friends, who 1
believe are pious persons, to learn to dance,
which I am sensible is needful to teach men
how to behave themselves in company; but I
somewhat question the lawfulness of it : for I
take it to be an institution of the Pagans, who,
upon the days of their sacrifices, did dance before
the altars of their gods; as also condemned by

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 55

the Fathers, as unlawful, in many of their writings.
Besides, it weakens piety, occasions iil thoughts,
and consequently seems a breach of the seventh
commandment; it having been also the occasion
of many bad actions, as well as the loss of time,
which we ought rather to employ in prayer, and
other exercises of piety and devotion. I desire
your opinion ?

Ans, — Though we would be very tender of
advancing any thing that should have an ill in-
fluence on manners, which are already but too
much corrupted; yet, we must own, we think
none of the reasons brought in the question con-
clusive against dancing. As for the first, it being
a Paganish institution, it would be very hard to
prove it, and we think it not true ; — for, first,
dancing seems, in some sort, natural. It is dif-
ficult not to leap for joy ; and the whole body
seems almost necessarily to folio v^^ the motion of
the spirits and blood, when more brisk and lively
than ordinary ; nor can the reducing of steps to
order be any more hurtful than leaving them
without order. Now this natural way of ex-
pressing mirth, which is also a healthful exercise
to the body, was in process of time made use of
by all nations, both in their sacred festivals and
on civil occasions. It was used in the festivals of
the Jews very early ; for we read in Exod. xv.
fO. that Miriam the Prophetess, and all the
women, went out with timbrels and with dances.

5 6 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

saying, Sing ye to the Lord," &c. And it is
even said, Psalm cxlix. 3, " Let them praise his
name in the dance." And that this was also a
civil expression of joy, common among the na-
tions even before Moses, appears from that of
Job xxi. 11, where he mentions the dancing of
children ; and this dancing was also a civil diver-
sion, and expression of joy and triumph, among
the Jews. The daughters of Shiloh went, it
seems, to dance every year, only for their diver-
sion ; and it was promised as a blessing to Israel,
Jer. xxxi. 13, "Then shall the virgin rejoice in
the dance, both young men and old together."
And dancing, as well as music, is mentioned as
customary on great joy, in the parable of the
Prodigal. The Fathers, we own, did sometimes
speak angrily against it, and so they did against
usury and other things ; wherein, though we
have a great and just respect both for their piety
and judgment, they are yet generally thought to
have been in an error, but by none ever thought
infallible. For the weakening of piety, it must
be by occasioning ill thoughts, or wasting time,
neither of which are necessary effects of it, any
more than of courtship to one you intend to
make your wife ; but, if you find they are, you
must forbear public dancing, and yet you may still
be privately instructed by a master at your own
chamber, there being a time for recreation as
well as severer study and business ; nay, as Solo-

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 57

men says, "a time to dance, as well as to mourn."
From what has been said, we think, may be
deduced a full answer to all the objections the
question mentions ; though nothing is said here
for immodest dances, or devouring too much
time in them, which is equally unlawful, in that
or any other recreation.

Quest. — Why are mean persons coming to
honour generally prouder and less obliging than
gentlemen, &c. who have had better birth and
education ?

Ans. — Because a courteous and genteel beha-
viour takes a long time to be well learned, and is
seldom acquired unless men begin from their
very infancy, which persons of quality do; and
by constant conversation, either with those above
them, or else such as are well bred, they more
easily and naturally imitate their manners, and
can at least command their outward expressions
and behaviour. Whereas, on the contrary, those
who have had a mean education have their
minds generally rough, and still savouring of their
birth and breeding ; both because a habit imbibed
in infancy or youth is with great difficulty to be
conquered, and because they have not had so
much time or opportunity to polish their words
or behaviour, whence they may sometimes appear
proud when they really are not ; there being
some difference between pride and ill-breeding,

58 THB ATHENIAN ORACLE.

though much alike and very near a-kin. But
further, when such persons are really proud,
they have not perhaps been courtiers long enougli
to dissemble and hide it. Not but that there
are exceptions to be found on both sides — per-
sons well born, who disgrace both their birth
and education by ridiculous pride, which they
mistake for greatness of mind, though far distant
from it; and, on the contrary, there are of
meaner birth and parentage, who, by the force of
a more than ordinary genius, have soon learnt all
the finesses of conversation, and being as obliging
and well tempered as any in the world.

Quest. What was the chief cause of the de-
struction of the Empire of Constantinople.

Ans. — Most Historians conclude the principal
causes to have been the divisions of the Chris-
tians, and the perfidy and cruelties that were
exercised by many of them, to make themselves
masters of the empire. For they were so divided,
that, instead of thinking how they might unite
against the common enemy, they chiefly em-
ployed themselves in endeavouring to become
great, though to the injury of each other; and
thus, in violating the laws of Christianity, they
acted against true policy, which happens much
oftener than men are aware of.

Quest, — I am willing to have as perfect a

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

59

knowledge of things as my capacity will admit ;
therefore desire to know whether it may be by a
general or particular application to the sciences ?

Ans. — Since it is impossible our narrow capa-
cities should be able to receive a perfect know-
ledge of all things, it is much better for us to
limit our studies to one, or a few, that our assi-
duous application thereto may render us as abso-
lute masters thereof as is possible to be attained in
this world ; for by the pursuit of all we are sure
to gain but a superficial knowledge. But were it
possible for us by a long tedious enquiry to under-
stand the true causes of every production, and to
discover Nature even in her most hidden recesses,
yet our happiness would be defective; since pos-
session only would avail but little to our satisfac-
tion, without we were able to possess and enjoy
that knowledg^e. So that it is not enouo-h to have
a great stock of notions, without we were able to
bring them to practice ; and this is better done
by him that understands one thing perfectly, than
by him that has a confused notion of all things,
which is knowing a little of every thing, and of
all nothing ; we cannot think of two things at the
same time. And so our eye and mind can discern
but one single tree in a forest, one branch in a
tree, nay perfectly but one single leaf in a branch ;
the reflection of the mind, like that of the eye,
being made by a direct line, which has but one
point of incidence. And the least thing, even

60

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

the least part, is sufficient to employ the mind of
man ; from which consideration a Philosopher
once exercised his wit for forty-three years upon
an emmet. And many volumes have been writ-
ten upon particular animals and plants ; as Apu-
leius busied himself about an ass ; Crysippus on
a cole-wort ; Marcion and Diodes upon the tur-
nip and rape ; Phanias of a nettle ; Juba on Eu-
phorbium, &c. And although all persons are de-
sirous of knowledge, yet mens inclinations are
very different ; and some take to one study, and
some to another, which Nature has seemed wisely
to provide for discovery and preservation of the
sciences, which end would be frustrated, should
we inquire after new ones before we have attained
what we first seek after, considering the shortness
of our lives, and the copiousness of the arts ;
wherefore it is necessary for every one to apply
himself to what he is most naturally inclined, for
thereby men have only become famous. As Plato,
instead of improving philosophy as he might have
done, indulged his genius in studying metaphy-
sics, Socrates morality, Democritus natural philo-
sophy, and Archimedes the mathematics, &c.; and
on the contrary, some persons striving to be uni-
versal have failed in excelling in any thing.

Quest. — What degree does Silver bear amongst
other metals ? what are the chief properties of it.

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 6l

and from whence is it that we have the greatest
part of it r

j4ns. — Silver is the finest metal in the world
excepting gold ; it will beat very thin, and stretch
in wire beyond any sort of metal but gold, even
as small as a man's hair. It will not rust, but
cankers a little into a pale blue, consumes some
small matter in melting ; it is dissolvable, like
other metals, in aquafortis ; and a thin plate of it,
as a great or lesser piece, rubbed with brimstone
and held over a candle, splits and moulders, be-
cause it is a calcine, the powder of which paints
glass yellow. It chiefly comes from the West
Indies and High (xermany, being dug out of
mines in an ore not much unlike lead or anti-
mony, and the richer veins of lead are said to
have much silver in them.

Quest. — Of Pythagoras, Plato, and Aristotle,
which was the best ?

Ans. — You had done well to have told us whe-
ther you mean the best Man, or the best Philoso-
pher. Pythagoras, as far as we know of him at
this distance of time, appears to have been the
best moralist of the three, especially if we believe
the Golden Verses, like the Orphaies of Orpheus,
to contain his precepts. But then his philosophy
was whimsical and trifling. Plato talks very
handsomely and magnificently of divine things,
and well deserves that title Antiquity has given

62

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

him. But then he is magisterial rather than ar-
gumentative, and proceeds more upon tradition
than reason. Aristotle appears not to have been
over moral, nor to have much troubled himself
with divinity ; but yet his ethics, as to theory,
are for the most part sound and practicable ; he
had a large soul, and could comprehend any
thing. He was happier than either of the others,
in having for his patron the Conqueror of the
world, by whose assistance he made experiments
which others were incapable of ; and besides, we
still read with admiration his rhetorick and his
poetry, which show he was a person of extraordi-
nary depth of judgment, and deep insight into
mankind and the affairs of life.

Quest. — What is Happiness?

Ans. — It is not what the world generally sup-
poses, since there are so many disappointed ; and
the pretences of mankind in this search would, to
an unconcerned looker-on, argue that men are
creatures of different species. It was not without
good reason that the ingenious Earl of Rochester,
in his Satire against man, concludes that some
men differ more from others than others do
from beasts; meaning, as is evident by what pre- ,
cedes, that the really pious few, that believe and
live well, have not only their pretences, but ideas
of things, very different from those of other men,
whose souls are immersed in sense, and lost in

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 6^

body. Those that know the world most are the
best judges of the dissatisfactions and disappoint-
ments that every one complains of. Here is one
who promises himself a large share of felicity by
purchasing such an estate, another this prefer-
ment, a third by the possession of that cruel fair-
one, &c. ; and if, by an unwearied industry, or,
in respect of us, an adventitious occurrence, the
business is accomplished, we are yet either where
we were, wishing for something else under the
same impatience, or labouring under the too late
repentance of disappointments. And the reason
is evident, for we put false values upon things at
a distance, and fix the whole of our inclinations
upon unproportional objects. As no man smells
with his eyes or ears, or tries sounds with his
nose, so no wise man will stamp an unjust esti-
mate upon the pleasures of sense, and the actions
wherein his body is mostly concerned. It is the
pleasures of a well-informed mind, and the reflec-
tions of just and virtuous actions, that gives a title
to what our querist call Happiness. Every crea-
ture is made for some end ; and if this order he
inverted, such a creature is abused, or made in
vain. The end of man was, to know, love, and
enjoy his Maker ; and where this conformity
holds, there ensues a happiness proportionable to
the measure of those ; — and this is what we un-
derstand by Happiness.

1

^4 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Quest. — Is there any cure for Stammering, and
what is it ?

Ans. — There is; for we have known it cured in
several instances. There are more ways than one
to do it ; the first is, repeating many hard words
dehberately several times a day ; and for preven-
tion, never speaking in haste. The other, keeping
a pebble or some such thing in your mouth, and
speaking or reading with it there.

Quest. — Was there such a man as Hercules ?

Ans. — In the time that Deborah and Barac
were Judges of Israel, a Phoenician merchant,
named Alcides, who was born in Boeotia, and
who, it is supposed, was our very Hercules, un-
dertook great voyages, sometimes alone, and
sometimes in company ; some upon his own ac-
count, and others by commission. He established
many Colonies ; and as Greece was not yet well
peopled, so in many places the new inhabitants
were obliged to take a great deal of pains to de-
fend themselves, as well from wild beasts as the
injuries of the air. In that time, there were many
young men that kept and fed the tamer beasts,
that had successfully accustomed themselves to
the fighting with bears and lions. Alcides had at
eighteen years of age killed a lion in a mountain
of Boeotia who had made a great ravage in the
Theban flocks ; on which the king of that place
gave in marriage to him, or to his men, his daugh-

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

ters ; and Alcides used afterwards to wear the
skin of the Hon he had slain for a cloak. He
likewise killed another lion in the forest of Ne-
mea, which, by the order of the king of Mycena,
he had chased into some park, where he conti-
nued a longtime, and there established the power-
ful colony of the Heraclidas, which signified mer-
chants. This colony delivered the country from
many venomous animals, and made themselves
famous by hunting the wild boars and savage
bulls of the mountains.

After this Alcides left his colony in Peloponnes-
sus, and returned to Thebes ; but departing upon
some business in his travels, Eurytus, Prince of
Ecalia, promised to give his daughter to him that
best drew the bow. Alcides presented himself,
and made it appear that he was the most expert
in that exercise ; but the king kept not his word,
under pretence that the Phoenicians had been ac-
customed to sacrifice their own children ; yet
Iphitus, the king's son, became a friend to Alci-
des, whom Alcides afterw^ards killed in a quarrel;
for which murder he fled to Laconia, where the
prince of the place purified him according to the
manner of that time by plunging him in a river;
but falling sick, he thought the gods were angry
with him for the murder, and therefore resolved
to consult a famous priest that lived at Delphos.
He told Alcides that, to cure his infirmity, he must
quit Greece, and make satisfi\ction to Eurytus.

F

66' THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

This advice he intended to follow ; but being ar-
rived on the coasts of Asia, he was made a slave
by some subjects of Omphales queen of Lydia,
where he continued three years ; in which time
he made some famous voyages, and in one of them
at last discovered some Phoenician vessels, which
he joined^ and^ upon his making himself known to
them, they delivered him from his captivity. He
went not very far, but stopped in Mysia, where he
established a colony ; but the riches of Phrygia
raised an envy in the Phoenicians that were in
Mysia, and put them in mind of besieging some
advantageous fort near Troy, and establish them-
selves there ; to which end they equipped a little
fleet of eighteen vessels, that they themselves had
built, and went under the conduct of Alcides; but
the repulse of the enemy, and some divisions
amongst themselves, made them soon leave the
place. Alcides, returning from thence into Greece,
was again engaged in wars to defend his colony at
Peloponnessus. He a little after died upon a
mountain of Thessaly, called CEta, where his body
was burnt, as was then the custom of that coun-
try ; and because of his mighty actions, he was
placed amongst the number of the gods. And
although all these things were not done by him-
self only, because he was the chief, he had the
honour of all enterprizes. Besides the name of
Alcides, or Alceus, that he had from his infancy,
he was called Herokel, which the Greeks made

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 6j

Heracleis, and the Latins Hercules. It is a Phoe-
nician word, which signifies merchant. And in-
deed Alcides did nothing else but establish Phoeni-
cian colonies, or make the negotiations of those
more flourishing that drew their origin from Phoe-
nicia.

Quest. — Why does the fruit of a tree in graft-
ing always take after the scion, and not after the
root ?

Ans. — ^The juice which ascends from the earth
for the nourishment of the tree is the same in all
trees ; but their particular fruits, and their diflfer-
ent formation, seem to depend on the internal dis-
position of those more immediate parts from
whence they are produced. Thus we see, not
only very good fruits raised from a thorn, and
good apples from a crab-stock, but several sorts of
fruit on the same tree ; which seems evidently to
demonstrate that those fine meatuses, or channels,
in the graft form those juices which the root re-
ceives from the earth according to their own na-
ture, and thence produce their own proper fruits ;
as seals, or rather moulds, instamp such impres-
sions on a large piece of wax, not as it had be-
fore, but as they themselves represent. One and
the same trunk will give nutriment to apples^
pears, and all sorts of fruits that have pippins in
them, but not to stoned fruit, as plumbs, apri-
cots, &c. which are of a different species.

6S

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Quest. — From what cause proceeds the shell
that covers the snail ?

^ns. — From the same cause that the nails of a
man's fingers proceed, namely, from moisture ;
which is also the cause of hair ; and as a man's
finger shapes the nail growing out of it, so the
body of the snail shapes the shell, or horn, which
receives its nourishment from that part or knot
whereby it is fastened to the snail.

Quest, — How was it that they formerly pre-
served bodies for so long a time without their
corrupting?

Ans. — The antients were so careful, not only
of preserving the images of their forefathers, but
also of keeping their bodies, that they variously
embalmed them. The Grecians washed them in
wine mingled with warm water, and then put them
into oil of olives, honey, or wax. The Ethio-
pians first salted them, and then put them into
vessels of glass. In the Canary Islands they sea-
soned them in the sea, and afterwards dried them
in the sun. The Scythians placed them upon
mountains covered with snow, or in the coolest
caves. The Indians covered them with ashes. The
Egyptians, believing that corrupted bodies rose
not again, and that the soul was sensible of the
body's corruption, were as curious in their pre-
servation as any nation whatever; they filled them
with myrrh, cinnamon, and other spices, or with

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 6^

oil of cedar; then tliey salted them with nitre,
whose acrimony consumed all the superfluous hu-
midities which caused putrefaction.

Quest, — What is Anger ?

Ans. — Anger is a passion caused by the appre-
hension of a present evil, which may be repelled,
but with some difficulty ; its principle is the soul,
its instrument the spirits, its matter the blood, its
seat the heart. It proceeds from a temper of
body hot and dry, and easy to be inflamed, or
from the diversity of seasons, times, ages, and
sex. Hence the choleric and young persons are
more inclined to it than the phlegmatic and aged,
because they have a temper more proper to this
passion. Women and children are easily dis-
pleased, through weakness of mind; as it is a sign
of a sublime spirit not to be troubled at any
thing, but to believe that as every thing is below
itself, so nothing is capable of hurting it ; which
reason Aristotle made use of to appease the rage
of Alexander, telling him, " he ought never to be
incensed against his inferiors, but only against his
equals or superiors ; and, there being none that
could equal him, much less surpass him, he had
no cause of anger." Anger is one of the most de-
formed and monstrous passions, so violent that it
causes the face to look pale, afterwards red ; the
eye sparkles, the voice trembles, the pulse beats
with violence, the hair becomes stiff, the mouth

70 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

foams, the teeth gnash, the hand cannot hold;
the mind is no longer in its own power, hut is be-
side itself for some time, anger not differing from
rage, but in duration ; which made a philosopher
tell his servant, " he would chastise him if he were
not angry and the Emperor Theodosius com-
manded his officers never to execute any person
by his orders till about three days ; and Xenodo-
rus advised Augustus never to determine any thing
when he found himself angry, till he had first softly
repeated the twenty-four letters of the Greek al-
phabet. And indeed, if this passion be not re-
pressed, it transports a man so out of himself that
he is incensed, not against men only, but even
against beasts, plants, and inanimate things ; as
Ctesiphon, who in great fury fell to kicking with
a mule ; and Xerxes, who scourged the sea. And
it even reduces men to such brutality, that they
fear not to lose themselves for ever, if they can
hut be revenged on those that have offended them.

Quest, — Which may be most easily resisted,
Pleasure or Pain ?

ylns. — If Pleasure be considered as a good, and
Pain as an evil, it is clear the latter is as insuj)-
portable as the former is agreeable. But there
are two sorts of good and evil, pain and pleasure,
one of the mind, the other of the body ; and fre-
quently the pains and sufferings of the body are
the joys of the mind ; and the pleasures and gr-a^

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. ?!

tifications of the flesh, the crosses and torments of
the spirit. Now there are scarcely any pure and
unmixed pleasures or pains in the world ; they
are usually mingled one with the other ; and if
they could be separated, pain would turn the scale,
as being the more heavy and difficult to be sup-
ported. In reference to which mixture, the Greek
poet judiciously feigned that there are two vessels
at the entrance of heaven, one full of honey and
sweetness, the other full of gall and bitterness;
of which two liquors mingled together Jupiter
makes all to drink, and tempers with them every
thing he pours down here below ; so that the
pains and pleasures of the mind or the body being
moderate, and indifferently tempered with each
of those liquors, may be supported by men.
Pleasure and good, as the more natural, much
more easily than evil and pain, which are destruc-
tive to Nature : but when both of them are ex-
treme, and the sweetness of pleasure is not abated
by any little mixture of unhappiness, nor the bit-
terness of misfortunes lessened by small satisfac-
tions, then men cannot relish this potion, because
they are not accustomed to things pure and sin-
cere, but to confusion and mixture, and cannot
bear the excess of joy or grief, the extremes of
which are found to be fatal.

In the first place, with respect to Grief ; — Li-
cinus, finding himself condennned for cheating the
public, died with regret; Fabius, because he was

72 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

cited before the tribunes of the people for vio-
lating the laws of nations ; Juha, Caesar s daugh-
ter, at the sight of the bloody garnaents of her
husband Pompey ; and one of the sons of Gilbert
duke of Monpensier, going into Italy, died upon
the sepulchre of his father, which he went thither
to see.

And as for Joy, besides our own experience,
many remarkable examples shew the excess
of it as deadly. Diagorus Rhodius, seeing his
three sons victorious in one day at the Olym-
pic games, died with joy. The like fate also be-
fel Chino the Lacedaemonian, upon the same vic-
tory of one of his sons. Dionysius the Tyrant of
Sicily, and the Poet Sophocles, having heard that
they had won the bays for tragedies, died both
immediately ; and so did the Poet Philippides,
upon winning that for comedies. Zeuxis the
Painter, as before-mentioned, having drawn the
picture of an old woman very oddly, died with
laughing at it. Sinus, a Turkish general, upon
the recovery of his only son, whom he thought
lost; Leo the Tenth, upon taking Milan, which
he had passionately desired, died for joy.

Thus both these passions have great resemblance
in their excesses ; they equally transport a man be-
vond the bounds of reason ; the one by its agrees
ableness makes him forget himself, and the other
by its bitterness leads him to despair. Grief de-
stroys life, either by the violent agitation of the

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 73

spirits, or by their condensation, which, stopping
the passages, hinders breathing, from whence
follow suffocation and death. Pleasure and joy
produce the same effect by contrary causes,
namely, by too great a dilatation of the spirits,
which causes weakness, and that weakness death.

And since they may be both so fatal to you,
if you are not past that foolish age — when you
choose a mistress, let her be wise and good, that
she may know how to prevent your dying with
joy, and have too much compassion to suffer you
to die of grief, though we believe the last generally
the least fatal.

Quest, — What is Time?

Ans. — It is the duration of a creature, mea-
sured by the revolution of the heavenly bodies.
Duration, and that successive, because it is of a
creature, whereby, first, the present moment is
excluded, being only the term of time, not time
itself; and then it is implied that time is incompa-
tible with an uncreated being, who, as all sound
Philosophers and Divines have ever held, has no
succession, no parallax, or tropical conversion,
which we render, no variableness, nor shadow of
turning.'* By creature here, we mean all created
beings, the whole system or frame of visibles,
and even invisibles, which ever began to be;
time in general being the complex measure of
their duration, taken from end to end, and the

74 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

best particular measure we have of this duration
being the repeated revolutions of tlie heavenly
bodies: so that, if there were any created beings
before this world was made, as it is probable there
were, at least Angels, we can in general apply suc-
cessive duration to their existence ; though it is
owned we cannot the measure of any heavenly or
earthly bodies actual revolution, because then no
such bodies ; though, like the Julian period, we
can set the watch a little backward^ and make
time intrude upon eternity in supposition, we
mean so, as to say there were so many actual du-
rations, so many instants passed from their crea-
tion to the creation of the world, as would have
made so many days or years greater or less than
any number given.

Quest, — Nothing is in all languages a noun
substantive : now a noun is the name of a thing,
that may be seen, felt, heard, or understood ; and
how can any part of that description agree to No-
thing ? I desire your serious answer herein, and
the definition of Nothing ; and opinion, whether
it may properly be called a noun substantive ?

Jns, — Nothing is 000,000,000,000,000, &c.;
wherein, it is a plain case, are included all things
that are necessary to a complete definition ; for
there is first its genius, which is 0 ; and then its
difference, both essential 0, and accidental 0 ; nay,
all the train of little tiny accidents that wait upon

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 75

the ancient family of the Nothings, clearly and
distinctly marshaled according to their respective
ranks and titles, as 0 — 0 — 0 — 0 ; and, lest others
of them should take it amiss for being neglected
or excluded, a long &c. is left for a back-door to
all the rest.

But, in order to answer this question, we must
now, like bad disputants, be forced to distinguish
after we have defined.

There are three sorts of nothings ; one nothing
which is something ; another nothing between no-
thing and something ; and a third nothing, which
is nothing. This may make people stare that are
no metaphysicians; but it is all as plain as a pike-
staff to one that has but read Suarez ; for, to be
yet more methodical, there is, in the first place,
your pur um nihil, or arrant nothing, a contradic-
tion, and absolute impossibility in nature ; a mon-
ster, one part of whom unbuilds another, as tran-
substantiation, a Jacobite's faith, courage, honour,
honesty, and twenty other nothings of the same
stamp. There is a second nothing, which is be-
tween a nothing and a something, what the old
jabberers call a nihil exist entice actualis, nothing
as to actual real existence, but what may exist ;
as a million of things, nothings we mean, that
are possible, are not future, and which, we hope and
have a strong guess, will never be present. But
though this nothing has but a very small portion,
of something in it, yet some it seems to have, at

7^ THE ATHENIAN' ORACLE.

least to conception ; and there is, by Avicenna's
leave, a difference between the nihility of a possi-
bility and an impossibility.

There is further a nihil positionis, such a no-
thing as comes nearer to something than all the
rest, and may be reckoned just on the edge of
being; a nothing which puts or affirms nothing,
but either takes something away, as privation,
blindness in a man, &c. or only outwardly affects
it, as any extrinsical denomination. Some reckon
also a nothing of subsistence, by which they mean
accidents, of modes of being; but we think these
downright somethings, and that nothing has no-
thing to do, to pierce so far into the realms of
entity. After all, it seems to us, that there is
still lurking one old, great, generical nothing,
which includes all these, and yet may be consi-
dered as abstracted from them — a sort of idea
nothing, a being of reason or fancy, which we
must have in our minds, somehow or other, when
we discourse of nothing ; and which yet cannot
perhaps strictly and properly be comprehended
under any of the former heads. And yet less than
all these is the word Nothing, the mere shadow of
a shadow, for all its high pretensions to Latin,
Greek, and Hebrew ; and, for aught we know,
fifty languages more than ever in the Polyglott.
This sometimes expresses all the fore-mentioned
particular notions^ possible, impossible, privative,
&c. ; at others, only the general confused notion

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 77

of undeterminate nothing ; and sometimes again
it is taken for its own little self, the very tiny
word, the nihilum, first docked into nihil, and
then split into 9fil, not unlike our nothing into
nought, and so made less than nothing.

But how can Nothing be seen, felt, or heard, or
understood ? Oh, very easily. Did you never
yet see a countryman gaping up in the sky ? Go
to him, and ask him what he sees there; and per-
haps his answer will be, Nothing." Nay, select if
you can forty wise people, and desire them to look
up as well as he — they will all agree, they see " No-
thing." Tlien for feeling. Nothing may be a noun;
aye, and a noun substantive too, for all that; for
did you never put your hand in your pocket, and
feel Nothing there ? Then for hearing, there is no
manner of doubt on it ; for as long as we are sure
that an horrid stillness may invade the ears of us
mortals — it is a clear case, that, like a fat old gen-
tleman who steals many a hearty nap at church
against the pillars of the middle aile, it is possible
for a man to have his mouth open, and yet hear
Nothing. Or, if he should chance not to nod fair,
but try hard heads with his brother snorer, and
wake them both before the shrieking clerk did it;
yet, if the parson talk sense, they might understand
nothing of it. And so may nothing be seen, felt,
heard, and understood. Ergo, it is a noun.

Qw6».y^.— What is your opinion of the nature of

78 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

plants ; as whether they are capable of pain, when
cat or broken, &c. !

Ans, — We shall first consider their generation;
they have now for some thousand years lain un-
der the same scandal that insects have, viz, that
they are produced by equivocal generation. It
would be too tedious, only for comparison's sake,
to run over the old received opinions, that salt
holds the place of the masculine seed, and humi-
dity the feminine ; and by this means excrements
produce beetles, flies, worms, or other insects;
sweat and wine produce lice and fleas ; the slime
of marshes generate frogs, being very nitrous ;
boats of salt produce rats, which conceive others
by licking the salt ; bees come from oxen, hor-
nets from horses, scorpions from crabfish, the
marrow of a back-bone turns to a serpent, with a
hundred more such fabulous idle stories : for, by
the help of microscopes, we have discovered that
all animals and insects, however mean and despi-
cable, are produced from parents of their own spe-
cies, even to a gnat and a mite. Francisco Redi,
upon the innumerable trials that he made with
putrid flesh of all sorts, corrupted cheese, fruits,
herbs, and insects themselves, constantly found
that all these kinds of putrefaction only afforded a
nest and aliment for the young of those insects
that he admitted to come to them, and when he
sealed them up in glasses, vessels covered with
paper, fine lawn, &c. nothing was ever produced

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 79

even in the warm climate of Florence. Malpi-
ghius also has observed those tumours and excres-
cences of plants, leaves, &c. that yield flies and
worms, are first made by such insects which
wound the tender buds with a hollow trunk,
and deposit an egg in the hole with a sharp cor-
rosive liquor, which causes a swelling in the leaf,
and so shuts up the orifice. We need not add the
experiments of Lewenhoeck, and others, since
now this doctrine of equivocal generation is uni-
versally exploded.

Nothing, even so much as grass, is producible
on the earth without seed.

Malpighius shews, that the earth which has no
seed in itself can produce nothing at all. He
caused to be digged a deep pit, and took of the
earth of it, which he put into a glass, that he
might the more conveniently see whether it pro-
duced grass, or anything else ; this glass he co-
vered with fine lawn, several heights above one
another, to keep the smallest seed from falling
into it, as also that it might have the convenience
of the air; and, after having exposed this vessel to
the air for a long time, he found nothing at all to
grow in it ; but, having put some seeds into it,
they sprang up, and grew immediately.

If it be objected, that in London, after the
plague, grass grew in the streets, being not hin-
dered by treading upon it, and that all highways
spring up with grass when unfrequented — it is

80

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

easily answered, that seeds of grass are easily car-
ried by the wind from one place to another ; but
besides, there is no need of such a supply, where
the roots of grass are left behind, which will
spring up when at liberty ; but in places where
there is neither root nor seed, as in the above ex-
periment, there will be nothing produced.

Thus the generation of plants, herbs, &c. is as
certainly equivocal as that of brutes and men,
viz. produced as one fire kindles another ; and
therefore no prerogative can be claimed by one
above another as to their oreneration. As to the
nutrition, increase, &c. of vegetables, I come to
consider them ; but we shall also examine their
organs, and what relation and similitude they bear
to those of brutes, and consequently to ours. Dr.
Basil is very positive, in his Kingdom of Vegetables,
that there is nothing in animals, but there is some
resemblance of it in plants, and for the most part,
they have the same organs with them. With him also
M. Malpighius agrees, who has so far considered,
and curiously examined their nature, that he offers
to shew in plants all the same parts which serve
to the divers functions of life in men and beasts —
such as are for reception of the air, for the use of
the plant, those which serve to the concoction and
digestion of the aliment, the circulation of nutri-
tive succus, the excretion of superfinities, &c. Mr.
Konig gives but a very lame definition of the soul of
vegetables ; however, he agrees with me, that this

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 8l

soul is the principle of their vegetation, and of
nutrition, increase, propagation, &c. since there
are no laws yet known of matter, that can cause
such circulations and motions as are in the succous,
nutritious, and other plants. He has very well
remarked, that they have not only the same or-
gans destined to the same uses, but that they re-
semble them in many respects. The same accidents
and the same revolutions happen to them in
common with animals. They increase, feed, are
vigorous, sicken and die. Nor can we be assured
that they have not thought, and are sensible of
pain and pleasure in the proper functions of their
nature ; but we have rather some very good rea-
sons to believe the affirmative. It is unquestion-
able, that not only in different species, but often
in the very same kind, there is a vast difference
as to the complexion and constitution of all crea-
tures ; those which most tenderly and delicately
bred, give their arteries the liberty of spreading
into extremely fine branches, and thereby become
extremely sensible of pain or pleasure. It is so
in the vegetative world ; some trees, plants, herbs,
&c. that are carefully manured and managed, are
much sooner blasted, than the wild mountainous
ones, which are continually exposed to the se-
verity of wind and weather; therefore, if we can
possibly produce such instances of the sensibility
of plants, we shall bid fair to prove it essential to
the whole ; only by accidents, severe usage, dif-

G

^2 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

ference of contexture, &c. it may not be so apparent
in all : and it is no argument that a thing is not,
because we cannot see or understand it. There is
a sensitive plant growing, as Scaliger and others
relate, in Zonolha, a part of Tartary, where the
inhabitants sow a sort of grain much like that of
our melons, but somewhat longer, from which
grows an herb, which they call Borrancetz, or a
lamb, for it is like one, having feet, horns, &c. it
grows to the earth by a root which enters at its navel,
and it eats all the grass about it, as far as it can
reach, and dies when it has no food. Anthony
Pegafet tells us of a tree, much like a mulberry,
which has leaves with little feet, that it uses, when
fallen off" the tree, to run away from those that
come near it. But Pliny is very positive as to
his balsam tree, which trembles when the axe is
near it. And Scaliger, a more credible author, if
the two last be suspected, tells us of the Arbor
pudica, which, upon the approach of a man, or
other animal, contracts its boughs, and extends
them again upon their departure, which is also
observable in the sponge. There is such a unifor-
mity in nature between some plants and animals,
that there is scarcely any difference but in local
motion; which yet is found in some, as the
gourd and cucumber, which follow the neigh-
bouring water, and shape their fruit in length to
reach it.

The Herba Viva, of Arosta, folds up its leaves

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 83

and flowers when touched ; tulips do the same in
the evening ; the cadine thistle, called the pea-
sant's-almanack, folds up its flowers when a tem-
pest is at hand ; and innumerable more such in-
stances there are, which would persuade us that
all vegetatives have sense as well as life, but
rucro-edness of the contexture and frame of most
makes it imperceptible to us. We might carry
the matter yet higher, but yet with a question
which we leave to the ingenious, whether, since
they have sense, some of them at least apparently,
may not be said to make rational inferences, and
be guided by a soul capable of abstract specu-
lations ?

Quest, — What are we to understand by the
Centaurs and Lapithae, and were there ever any
such monsters as Virgil represents, or that the
story proceeded from any sort of men ?

j4ns, — Under the reign of Ixion, king of Thes-
saJy, a company of bulls which fed upon Pelion
run mad, by which means the mountain was in-
accessible. They also descended into the inha-
bited parts, and ruined the trees and fruits, and
killed the larger cattle. Upon which Ixion de-
clared that he would give a great reward to any
persons that would destroy these bulls. Riding on
horseback was never practised before that time.
But some young men that lived in a village at the

84

TMB ATHENIAN ORACLE.

foot of Pelion, had attempted successfully to train
horses fit to back, and had accustomed themselves
to that exercise. These youths undertook to clear
the mountain of the bulls, which they effected
by pursuing them on horseback, and piercing
them with their arrows as they fled ; but when
the bulls stopped or followed them, they retired
without receiving any hurt. And from hence
they were called Centaurs, viz, Pierce-Bulls.
Having received of Ixion the recom pence he pro-
mised them, they became fierce and proud, and
committed a thousand insolences in Thessaly, not
sparing even Ixion himself, who dwelt in the
town of Larissa. The inhabitants of the country
were at that time called Lapithae, who one day
invited the Centaurs to a feast which they cele-
brated; but the Centaurs abused their civility;
for, having drunk too much, they took the Lapi-
thites* women from them, set them on their horses
and carried them away. This violence kindled
a long war between the Centaurs and the Lapi-
thae ; the Centaurs in the night came down into
the plain, and laid ambushes for their enemies;
and as soon as day appeared retired again into
the mountain with whatever they had taken.
Thus, as they retired, the Lapithae saw only the
hinder parts of their horses, and the men's heads ;
so that they seemed but as one animal, from
whence they believed the Centaurs had become
half men and half horses, and that they were sons

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHT.

85

of clouds, because the village where they dwelt
was called Nophelus, which signified a cloud.

Quest.— How, out of matter which appears
plainly homogeneous, should be formed animals
which consist of so many and so different parts.
Some think this is done by the fermentation of
the seed ; but it seems not possible that infinite
variety of parts, so aptly disposed, should arise
from thence. Others assert that the first seed
of the several animals created by God did for-
merly include all seeds in itself : but this also
seems very difficult to conceive, because of the
infinite number of animals which have been
formed from the creation of the world ; though
to this they say, that the parts of matter are
infinite. Others are of opinion that all the
seeds of the several animals were in the beginning
of the world created by God, and that we take
them in daily. Pray, which of these opinions
esteem most probable ?

y4ns. — Whatever matter may be in itself and
its essence, it is certain that it: appears to our senses
as various and heterogeneous : however, the mo-
dus of the formation of animals is still unknown.
The Inspired Writers express themselves here,
at least, according to the capacity of the learned
as well as the vulgar, when they acknowledge
the ignorance of mankind — how the bones do

S6

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

at first grow in their embryotic state — and that
we are awfully and wonderfully made, when we
are fashioned secretly in the lower parts of the
earth. However, it seems not probable that
mere fermentation should produce this, or action
or re-action of one part of matter upon another,
though we grant it may have a strange and unac-
countable power in the alteration of matter purely
insensible or inanimate. This fermentation may
dilate, and extremely alter the parts of animate
matter, when they are already delineated and
marked out by the finger of the Almighty ; but
still, matter being a principle purely passive and
irrational, we cannot conceive how it should
become an animal, any more than a world, it
being much more easy for stones to leap out of a
quarry, and make an Escurial, without asking
the architect's leave, or calling for the mason, with
his mortar and trowel, to assist them. Nor
seems it necessary, or rational, that the first seed
of every creature should formerly include all those
seeds that should be afterwards produced from it;
since it is, we think, suflficient that it should
potentially include them, as Abraham did Levi,
or as one kernel all those indeterminate kernels
that may be thence afterwards raised, the first
seeds being doubtless of the same nature with
those that now exist, after so many thousand
years, the order of time making only an accidental

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 8/

difference; which if we do not grant, we must
run into this absurdity, that every thing does not
produce its hke, a bird a bird, or a horse a horse,
which would be to till all the world witli mon-
sters, which Nature does so much abhor. But
every seed, or kernel, for example, does now
actually and formally contain all the seeds or
kernels which may be at any time afterwards
produced from them. A kernel has indeed, as
we have found b}^ microscopes, a pretty fair and
distinct delineation of the tree and branches into
which it may be afterwards formed, by the fer-
mentation of its parts and addition of suitable
matter; as in the tree are potentially contained
all the thousands and millions of kernels, and so
of trees, that shall or may be thence raised after-
wards : and so we are apt to believe it must be
in the first animals — whereas the finest glasses,
which are brought to an almost incredible per-
fection, cannot discover actual seeds in seeds, or
kernels in kernels ; though, if there were any
such thing as an actual least atom, they might,
one would think, be discovered by them, since
they have shown us not only seeds, but even new
animals, in many parts of matter where we
never suspected them, and even in some of the
smallest animals themselves, whereof our naked
sight can take no cognizance. As for the parts of
matter, be they how they will, finite or infinite,
it makes no great alteration ; for, if these parts are

88

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

not all seminal, we are no nearer. Nay, at best,
an absurdity seems to be the consequence of this
hypothesis : because, if those parts are infinite,
and include all successive generations of animals,
it would follow that the number of animals too
should be infinite — nay, the number of any in-
sect, any animal ; and instead of one, we should
have a thousand infinites ; and it would be
strange too if they should not, some of them, be
greater or less than one another.

For that pleasant fancy, that all the seeds of
animals were distinctly created at the beginning
of time and things, that they are mingled with
all the elements, that we take them in with our
food, and the he and she atoms either fly off
or stay as they like their lodgings ; we hope
there is no need of being serious to confute
it. And we may ask of this, as well as the
former hypothesis, what need of them, when the
work may be done without them ? The kernel,
as before, contains the tree ; the tree a thousand
other fruits, and ten thousand kernels : the first
animal several others ; and as many of them as
Nature can dispose of, and provide fit nourishment
for, are produced into what we may call actual
being, in comparison to what they before en-
joyed. If it be asked, whether these imperfect
creatures have all distinct souls while lurking yet
in their parent? we answer, that there is no need
of it ; they are not yet so much as well defined

HISTORY AND FHILOSOPMY. 89

bodies, but rather parts of the parent. There
is required yet a great deal more of the chemistry
and mechanism of Nature, and that in both sexes,
to make one or more of these insect beings, the
offspring of man, capable of receiving a rational
soul ; but when that capacity comes, in proper
time, to infuse it, though when that is, and
wherein it consists, perhaps He only knows, who
is the Father of spirits, as well as the Former of
the universe.

Quest, — ^Why is the first of August called
Lammas Day, above all days of the year ?

u4ns, — At that time the popish priests began to
make masses, that the lambs and sheep might
not die all that season by the cold after shearing :
therefore it was called Lammas Day.

Quest, — Does Sound proceed from the striking
of two bodies one against another, or from the
air which is broken thereon ?

Ans, — The striking of two hard bodies, one
against another, is indeed the efficient cause of
sound, but not the formal; for sound is made,
not in the beating of those two bodies alone, but
by the collision and breaking of the air between
them. As for example, sound is not in the bell
that sounds, but in the air beaten and broken
between the clapper and the bell.

go THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Quest. — Why cannot we endure Thirst so long
or so well as Hunger ?

j4ns. — Because Hunger is but a simple appe-
tite of food, but Thirst is a double appetite;
namely, of food and refreshment ; so that two
defects are more difficult to be supported than
one. And therefore, also, we receive much
more pleasure in drinking when we thirst, than
in eating when we hunger ; and as the pleasure
is greater in the enjoyment, so is the displeasure
and inconvenience in the want thereof. More-
over^ drink suddenly penetrates the body and all
the parts thereof ; but food insinuates by little
and little, and after many concoctions it changes.

Quest. — Wherefore do such as are made
afraid look pale and wan ?

^ns. — Because Nature withdraws the blood
from the exterior to the more noble and inward
parts of the body; even as such who have lost
the power and command of the field, or cam-
paign, retreat to their garrisons and castles, the
best fenced and fortified ; for it is the blood that
causes that blushing colour in the face, which,
being withdrawn, paleness ensues.

Quest. — Why do flowers flourish and open in
the morning, and are contracted and shut at
night ?

j4ns, — It is because the nature of heat is to

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 91

dilate and open, and of cold to contract and shut;
so that the sun, by its heat, makes them open
and flourish ; and the sun being set, they are
contracted and shut by the cold of the following
night.

Quest. Is it the custom of remote countries to
testify their sorrow for the loss of friends by wear-
ing of different apparel ? And if it is, do they
put on black, or any other colour? And what
reason can be given for our preferring black to
all other colours ?

j4m. — Black is the most fit emblem of sorrow
and grief. As death is the privation of life,
and black a privation of light, it is very probable
this colour has been chosen to denote sadness,
upon that account. When black appears in the
body, it is generally a sign of death, because it is
produced by mortification and extinction of the
spirits; a living body being full of vivacity and
brightness, whereas a dead one is gloomy and
dismal ; for at the same moment the soul leaves
the body, a dark shade seems, as it were, to be
drawn over it — so that this colour is not only a
proper representation of grief and sadness, but
also of death, which is the cause of it, and has
been preferred for mourning by most people
throughout Europe. Yet the Syrians, Cappa-
docians, and Armenians, use sky-colour, to de-
note the place they wish the dead to be in j

9« THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

namely, in tlie heavens ; — the Egyptians yellow,
to shew that, as herbs being faded become yel-
low, so death is the end of human hope; — and
the Ethiopians grey, because it resembles the
colour of the earth, which receives the dead.

Quest. — Whether the antients were as well
skilled in shipping and navigation as the moderns
are ?

Ans. — Athenaeus tells us, that Ptolemy Philo-
pater had a galley built for pomp and pleasure,
with a double prow and forty ranks or orders of
rowers. And Plutarch asserts, that Demetrius
equipped several ships of war, which had in each
of them four thousand rowers : this for their
bulk. Then N. Whitsen, who wrote on naval
architecture in High Dutch, whose book was
printed at Amsterdam in 1671, says, the ships of
the antients were much firmer and more durable
than ours. He tells us of a ship found in the
time of Pope Pius H. in the Numidian sea,
twelve fathoms under water, thirty feet long, and
proportionably broad, of Cyprus and Larix wood,
so hard that it would scarcely burn or cut, and
not in the least any where rotten or perished ;
and the whole ship so close, that not a drop of
water was soaked into the under rooms. But
whatever we think of this story, or of the vast
bulk assigned to some ships ; of this we are cer-
tain, that they antiently had some very large

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHT. 9J

vessels. Authentic histories mention Hiero the
Syracusan's ship, which, by the description Mr.
Evelyn gives us out of old writers, *' that it
was among those which had been taken from
mountains, or floating islands, and that it was a
moving palace, adorned with groves of trees, both
for fruit and shade by the description given of
it, it seems to be the same which the miraculous
Archimedes, as his history tells us, by his mathe-
matical engines lifted up in the air, equal and
even, as a trial of his art, when Hiero and all his
courtiers were at dinner in it. Nor were they
formerly wanting in stratagems, or ingenious de-
vices, to murder one another ; for Minus is said to
be the first inventor of the sea-fights, who lived
not long after the Flood ; and that not only the
use of flags, but even of false colours, fire-ships,
stink-pots, and snake-pots, were known to the
antients, as we learn in Fronto on Stratagems.
Then for the number of their vessels. Homer tells
us, there were a thousand ships against Troy ;
and the Roman histories, and Polybius, inform
us, the Roman and Carthaginian Armadas have
met at sea, with more than a hundred thousand
men of a side ; and at other times, forty thousand
have been killed of a side in one battle. But,
notwithstanding all this, it is certain that we excel
the antients, not only in other parts of naviga-
tion, but also in that of shipping, our vessels be-

94 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

ing, if not so great as some of those are repre-
sented, yet much more serviceable.

Quest. — To whom do we owe the invention of
Glass, what is it composed of, and to what per-
fection may it be brought ?

Am. — Glass is found in all bodies capable of
calcination and vitrification ; but chiefly in nitre,
sand, shells, certain stones, wood, and plants ;
from which it is drawn differing in beauty accord-
ing to the matter whence it is extracted by
means of a most violent fire, which resolving the
compound, consumes all its parts except that vi-
trious matter, which is proof against its violence.
We owe its invention to certain merchants of
nitre, who, having landed in Phoenicia, and made
a fire on the sand, used some clods of their nitre,
as a trevet for their kettle ; and the heat of the fire
melting the sand and nitre into glass, they took
notice of it, and published the invention. After-
wards moulds were found out, wherein to cast it
into all sorts of figures ; pipes or tubes to ram it
in ; others to blow it, and give it all sorts of co-
lours, which almost miraculously arise from the
very substance of the glass, without other mix-
ture, only by the wind and blast managed accord-
ing to the rules of art ; as also mills to calcine
and pulverize gravel, stones, or sand.

Glass wants but one thing; and that is, the re-
moving of its brittleness or fragility ; were it not

HISTORY AND FHILOSOPHr.

for that, it would be the most precious thing in
the world. The eye, the noblest part of man,
symbolizes with glass by that crystalline humour
whereon the point of the visual ray terminates.
But as all things in the world are no sooner ar-
rived to their point of perfection, but they are
most subject to be corrupted, so fragility is inse-
parable from glass, arrived to that degree. As
gold is the masterpiece of Nature, so is glass of
Art, which cannot produce any thing more noble.
It is the fairest and cleanest of all bodies, as par-
taking the most of light, the noblest and divinest
of all sublunary bodies, to which alone it affords
passage through its imperceptible pores, being by
that means the most useful and delightful piece of
architecture ; the beauties and properties whereof
cannot be seen but by light, half of which lattices
intercept, but glass communicates intire; serving,
moreover, to correct the defects of sight in old
men, by spectacles; and of the countenance in
looking-glasses, by means of which man perfectly
knows himself. But to judge how glass may be
malleable, we must know that it is composed of
two substances, — the one earthy, the other gum-
mous, serving for cement to unite those dry parts,
whose connexion in any body whatsoever is im-
possible, but by acrious humidity, without which
the earthy parts would fall to dust. Now to re-
medy the brittleness of glass, it were expedient
to find out two matters whose union might be

Pff THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

closer, or to link them together better by some
more humid oleaginous matter than the ordinary,
which would no more hinder the transparencies
of glass than it doth that of talc, which is wholly
oleaginous in its substance, and never less dia-
phonous and flexible. The fire likewise, being
very sharp and violent, consumes almost all the
moisture of glass, and makes it more brittle, for
which reason it ought to be moderated.

Quest, — Which is the more noble, Man or
Woman ?

Am. — One of the greatest difficulties arising
in the discussion of this controversy is, that there
is no judge to be found who is not interested in
the cause. It must not, therefore, be thought
that the determination of this point is of little im-
portance : for we should have none of those dis-
mal feuds, both in high and mean families, did
not women go about to command over men in-
stead of obeying them. Now whether the busi-
ness be fairly arbitrated, or whether it be yielded
out of complacency to that sex which loves to be
commended, and out of pity to its weakness ;
upon examination of the reasons of either side, it
is safer to suspend one's judgment, that we may
neither betray our own sex, nor incense the
other, — which, it is said, is not so easily recon-
ciled as it is offended.

Others are of opinion, that the courtship and

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

suing which men make to women is a tacit but
sufficient argument of the esteem wherein they
hold them ; for we do not seek after a thing we
undervalue. But the excellence of women above
men is chiefly argued from the place, the matter,
and the order, of their creation ; for man had not
the advantage to be created in the terrestrial para-
dise, as woman had, who also was produced out
of a more noble matter than he — he being made
out of the dead earth, and she out of living orga-
nized matter. As for the order of the creation ;,
God, in the production of mixed bodies, began
with the meanest things, and ended with the
noblest. He first made the earth and the sea,
then plants, fishes, and the other brutes ; after
which, he created man, as the master-piece of all
things ; and lastly woman, as the master-piece of
Nature, and the model of all perfections, mistress
of man, sttonger than he, as the Scripture saith,
and, consequently, mistress of all the creatures.
Moreover, there is no sort of good v^hich is not
found in a higher degree in woman than in man.
As for the goods of the body, the chief of which
is beauty, men have therein utterly lost the cause ;
which they will be as little able to carry in refer-
ence to the goods of the mind, the same being
found more vigorous, and attaining sooner to ma-
turity in women. They commonly perform more
actions of virtue than men ; and indeed they have
more need of them, to withstand the assaults made

H

58

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Upon their chastity, which is not so often found
in the other sex. They are acknowledged by aH
to be more merciful, faithful, and charitable than
men ; so devout, that the Church terms them by
no other name ; and so patient, that God ha?
judged them alone worthy to carry their unborn
children nine months; no doubt, because men
had not virtue and resolution enough for that
office. In short, there is no science or art in
v'hich women have not excelled ; witness the two
virgins De Roches and De Gournai, the Vis-
countess of Auchi, and Juniana IVJorel, a sister
Jacobin of Avignon, who understood fourteen
languages, and at Lyons maintained Theses in
philosophy at the age of thirteen. So also of old,
Diotima and Aspasia were so excellent in philoso-
phy, that Socrates was not ashamed to go to their
public lectures. Hipalia, of Alexandria, the wife
of Isidore the philosopher; in oratory, Tullia,
the daughter, and doubly heiress of Cicero ; and
Cornelia, who taught eloquence to the Gracchi,
her sons ; in poetry, Sappho, the inventress of
Sapphic verses ; and the three Corynnas, of whom
the first overcame Pindar, the prince of Lyric
poets, five times; and in painting, Irene and Ca-
lypso, in the days of Varro. If there have been
prophets, there have also been prophetesses and si-
byls; yea, they were virgins of old, that rendered
the oracles at Delphos. In brief, if there have been
warlike men, there have been Amazons too^ who

»

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 99

have shewn that valour is not solely to be found
in men. And there have been maidens v;ho
have fought very courageously, whose sex was
not known till they were slain in battle. But
these feminine virtues are not so much celebrated
as those of men, by reason of the envy which they
bear to the sex, having subjected the same to such
a pass that they are enforced to support all our
defects. Though, indeed, women may say
to men, as a lion did to a man who shewed him
the picture of a man killing a lion — " if lions," said
he, " were addicted to painting, he would see more
men killed by lions than lions by men — if wo-
men had had the making of laws and histories,
you would see more virtues exercised by women
than by men. But, though it will be said that
only men give their opinion of this matter, yet
God himself has passed a decree upon them in
these w^ords, " The woman shall be subject to the
man." And it is to no purpose to say, that it was
otherwise before the first sin, and that subjection
was imposed on the woman for a punishment ;
seeing the punishment of the serpent, that he
should creep upon the earth, does not presuppose
that he caused man to sin by the means of his
wife ; but indeed God converted that into a pe-
nalty which before was natural to him. The
same ought to be said concerning the woman, who
\vas no less subject to the man before than after
liissin. Moreover, after God had taken the wo-

H S

ICO

THE AlilEMAN ORACLE.

Twan out of Adam's side, whence, they say, it liap-
pens that their heads are so hard, he did not say
?he was good, as he had pronounced all the rest
of his creatures. And to get Adam to marry her,
there was no other expedient found but to cast
him into a sleep; no doubt because, had he been
awake, he wouUl have been much puzzled to re-
solve upon it. So that they who, considering on
one side the usefulness of that sex for the preser-
vation of the species of men, and on the other
Ihe mischiefs wliereof it is the cause, have not ill
determined, when they termed woman a necessary
evil; to which men are addicted, by natural in-
stinct, for the general good, and to the prejudice
cf the particular, just as water ascends upwards,
contrary to its own nature, for the eschewing of
vacuity. Woman is an imperfect animal, whom
Plato questioned whether he should not rank
among the irrational, and whom Aristotle terms
a monster." They who treat her most gently style
her a simple error of Nature. Now, if \n some
species of animals the females have the advantage
above males, as tigresses, lionesses, and she-
wolves, it is in fierceness; and therein we also
yield to women. But what more competent judge
amongst men can they fi^d than Solomon, who
tri^d so many, and enquires, who can find a
wise woman ?" and who, after he had compared
them to the bottomless pit, concludes, that all
wickedness is supportable, provided it be not the

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPm^

101

wickedness of a woman; yea, that the wickedness
of a man is better than the goodness of a woman.

Lastly, the middle opinion is, that every thing
is esteemed according to its author, structure,
and composition, the means it makes use of, the
manner how it emplo3^s the same, and its end.
Now, man and woman having the same author,
Ciod, and being composed ahuost of the same
parts, it remains to inquire v^hat means both the
one and the other make use of for attaining their
end, which is happiness. It is certain that the being
cither man or woman makes neitherof them goodor
bad, handsome or deformed, nobie or infamous,
happy or unhappy. There are found of both
sorts in each sex : - - as, to begin in Paradise, the
eleven thousand virgins alone shew that the femi-
nine sex has as good a share therein as men. In
thrones, Semiramis, Thomiris, many queens and
empresses, have manifested that women as well
know how to command as men ; Judith, cutting
off the head of Holofernes ; and the maid of Or-
leans, having shown that men alone were not co-
rageous, and fit for martial achievements. In
brief, there is no kind of performances in which
examples are not to be found both of men and
women who have acquitted themselves well
therein. In cpconomy, or the management of a
family, if some men are masters, there are found
women too, who, having the supremacy, perform
so well that the men cannot complain. Where-

THE ATHEMAN ORACLE.

fore they who seek the cause of the nobleness or
abjectness of man and woman in the sex, seeki t
where it is not. It is not the being a man, or a
woman, that makes noble or ignoble ; — it is the
being an excellent man, or an excellent woman:
for, as they are mistaken who impute some vice
or virtue to a whole province, because to be vi-
cious or virtuous are personal things ; the same
ought to be said concerning man or woman, who
are citizens of the whole world ; — either of whom
taken in general has nothing in them but what is
very decorous, good, and perfect, and, conse-
quently, very noble, as proceeding from an Author
who communicated to them what perfection and
nobleness were respectively requisite. If there be
any defect, it proceeds from the individual per-
son, and ought no more to be attributed to tlie
sex than to the species.

Quest. — Whether Truth is always to he
spoken ?

y^ns. — Truth being a moral duty, it much im-
ports the interest of a government that it be ob-
served and kept inviolably, not only in contracts
and public actions, but also in private discourses.
And it is our judgment that truth always should
be spoken, although it be to one's damage.

But some say, truth is not always to be spoken.
This Nature teaches us, while she discovers^to us
pnly the surface of the earth, but has hid alj the

MISTOHY AND PHILOSOPHY. 103

treasures of it, as all the parts of man, especially
tlie more noble, are concealed under the skin.
That which vilifies mysteries is the publishing of
them, called profanation ; that which hinders the
effect of state counsels, whereof secrecy is the
soul, is the letting of them be discovered, which
is treason ; that which takes away the credit from
all arts and professions is the rendering them com-
mon ; and phj^sic, amongst others, knows the ad-
vantage of concealment, wdiile the welfare of the
patient many times depends upon his ignorance.
Would you see what difFerencR- there is between a
wise man and a fool, a civil man and a clown :
it does not consist in knowledge, for they often
have the same thoughts and inclinations ; but the
fool speaks all that he thinks, the wise man does
not; as the clown will declare by gesture, and, if
he can, do every thing that comes into his ftmcy ;
but the better-bred man uses restraint upon him-
self. The comedian, therefore, wanted not reason
to say, that truth begets hatred ; and the Scrip-
ture teaches us that the dissimulation of the wise
Egyptian women to Pharaoh, when they were
commanded to murder the Hebrew children at
the birth, was approved. There is great differ-
ence between speaking falsehood, and not speak-
ing always the truth which is expected from us ;
the former being vicious, the other not. WhencJe
Athanasius being asked by his pursuers whether
he had seen Athanasius, told them " he went that

104

THE ATHEMAN ORACLE.

way a little time since but did not tell them that
himself was the person. And St. Francis being
asked if he saw a robber pass by, shewed his
sleeve, and said, " that he did not pass that way.'*
As only weak and distempered eyes are unable
to bear the light of the sun, so only weak and
sickly minds cannot suffer the lustre of truth.
All men are obliged to speak it, but particularly
that which is dictated from God's mouth ; and we
ought rather to choose martyrdom than renounce
the belief of it. Less ought they to conceal it who
are bound to it by their condition as preachers
and witnesses, provided they have regard to place,
time, and persons, without which circumstances
it is unacceptable and absurd. Yet in two cases
particularly the not telling of truth may be dis-
pensed with : When the safety of the Prince,
or good of the State, is concerned, for which
Plato, in his Commonw^ealth, says, it is lawful to
lie sometimes; and the Angel Raphael told Tobias
"that it is good to hide the secrets of Kings." And
when our life is concerned, or that of our father,
mother, and kindred, against whom, although we
know them guilty of a crime, we are not obliged
to declare it ; provided nevertheless that it be
with the respect due to the magistrate, and that
we beware of speaking lies whilst we intend only
to decline discovery of the truth. It is the opi-
nion of the Civilians that a father cannot be con-
gtraiued to bear witness against his son, nor a son

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

against his father, except in the case of high
treason.

These three things must not he confounded — to
lie, to speak or tell a he, and to do or act one.
To he, is to go against our own meaning; as when
I know a thing, and not only conceal it, but
speak the contrary. This action, according to
some, is always evil, as it is never lawful to do
evil that good may come of it. According to
others, it is qualified according to the diversity of
its end: for he wiio tells a he to save a traveller''^
life, who is pursued by thieves, seems to do bet-
ter than if he exposed himself to their cruelty by
his discovery. The physician who dissembles to
bis patient the danger of his disease, and thinks
itenough to acquaint his domestics, does better than
if he cast him into despair by a dismal prognosti-
cation ; and when he cheers him up in suitable
time and place by some pleasant made story,
what he speaks can scarcely be reckoned amongst
tdle words. But he who lies for his profit, as
many tradesmen do, sins proportionably to the
deceit which he thereby causes ; but he is most
culpable who lies to the magistrates. One mav
tell or speak a lie without lying ; namely, when
one speaks a false thing conceiving it to be true.
To do or speak a lie, is to lead a life contrary to
one's profession; as he who preaches well and
lives ill. Whence we conclude, tlmt liiany pre^

106*

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE,

cautions are requisite to lie without committing
an offence ; that a lie is to be spoken as little as
possible, and never to be done or acted at all.

Quest. — Which is better, to go to bed late,
and rise betimes in the morning ; or to do the con-
trary ?

Ans. — All the great and most refined spirits,
and even most men who have more than an ordi-
nary burthen of affairs, generally go to bed late,
and rise late, whereof several reasons may be as-
signed ; as the affairs themselves, which insen-
sibly steal away the time from us; the time slid-
ing away faster from him who takes a pleasure in
the doing of a thing, than it does from another
who is in some trouble of mind or body; whence
a tedious tale and a bad book are always thought
too long. They therefore are to be thought the
happiest, who, if they had their own wills, would
o-o to bed latest ; not only for that reason whibh
made a certain king say, that he would be king as
long as he could ; inasmuch as, when he slept,
there was no difference between him and the
meanest of his subjects; but also for this, that
night surprizing them before they had done all
their business, the supper must be the later, and
consequently the going to bed. The second rea-
son is, that there ought to be a correspondence
between the tranquillity of the mind and the body;

HlSrORV AND PHILOSOPHY. 10*

it fcweing necessary that he who would take a good
sleep should not he subject to any disturbance of
mind ; and that, rest being procured only by that
order which every one has taken in his affairs, it
is to be imagined that the later a man goes to
bed the more business he has di.^patched, and
eonsequenily there remains less to be done. Upor.
this ground it is, that the suppers of men of busi-
rsss are accounted the most quiet; for, having
spent the whole day in trade, they then enjoy
greater serenity. In the third j)lace, a man should
not go to bed till digestion be pretty well ad-
vanced ; from the want or slowness w^iereof, hi-
deous dreams, crudities, and apoplexies, pro-
ceed. Now this digestion is so much the more
advanced, the later a man goes to bed. Fourthly,
that custom is the best, from which it is in a
.fDan's power most easily to wean himself, and in
the change whereof he w ill be subject to the least
inconvenience. Now he who has contracted a
habit of going to bed late, will imd it a less incon-
venience to go to bed betimes, that so he may rise
betimes, or upon some other motive, than he
shall to sit up late who has accustomed himself to
go to bed betimes ; for he will be sleepy and unfit
for doing anything as soon as his bed-time i3 come.
Fifthly, Hippocrates would not have a man en-
slave himself to an over-strict course of lifV, a«
such reguIar_persons find it the greater difficulty

108 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE,

to support the miscarriages which oftentimes
cannot be avoided in the ordinary course of life.
Now those who go to bed betimes are com-
monly more regular in the hours of supper, and
all the other actions of the day ; upon the exact
observance whereof that of their bedtime depends.
Now it is obvious to any, who consider the differ-
ence of professions, that there are but few that
leave a man liberty to observe so exact a rule as
this ; so that being sometimes necessitated to
make a breach of the rule of going to bed betimes,
they must receive a far greater inconvenience from
the neglect of it, than they ordinarily do who go
to bed late. Sixthl}^, the same reason obliges
phlegmatic persons, and such as are subject to
catarrhs, to content themselves with little sleep,
for their humidity, joined with that of sleep ;
augments their diseases; besides that sleeping,
which moistens and cools, is not so well pro-
cured in that part of the day which is most cool
and moist, that is, from nine at night till three in
the morning, but rather towards the morning, at
which time the blood begins to abate its heat, and
dilates itself till ten in the morning, as all will
acknowledge who are subject to the megrims,
who find very great ease by morning-sleep, which
accordingly is found to be the most delightful.
P^Ioreover those who rise too early in the morning
are subject to head-ache in the afternoon, and

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 10.9

more easily moved with anger all the rest of the
day; to effect which, the consideration of the
ternperainent does very much conduce. The
greater part of men being subject to choler, and
the coolness and moisture of the night correcting
that hot and dry distemper, it is the more conve-
nient that sleep should be in the day-time.

But it is argued by some^ that the restoration
of the spirits obliges the animal to sleep, which
ought to continue at least for such a space of time
as amounts to the third part of that which a man
has been awake, and should never exceed the one
half of it. But the time when we should begin or
end our sleep being left to our own discretion, it
is requisite we should accommodate ourselves to
the order of nature, which has appointed the day
to labour, and the night to rest in. Nay, it is
also the advice of Hippocrates, Galen, and othet'
physicians, who think it not enough to direct rest
in the night, and waking in the day, but alsc
conceive very great hopes of those who in sick-
ness are regular therein. Add to this, that dark-
ness, silence, and the coolness of the night, are fit
to recruit the spirits, and promote their retiremeRl
within ; whereas light, noise, and heat of the day^
are more proper to occasion their egress for the
exercise of actions; which granted, he who ob-
serves not this rule, charges nature with an erro -
neous proceeding. And that this is her way >s
plaioj since those animals which are guided onK

110

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

by her motion thus act. Birds go to their rest,
and awake with the sun ; if any of our domestic
creatures do otherwise, our irregularity is the
cause; and that jjerversion is of no less dangerous
consequence than that of the seasons, wnich is
ever attended by diseases. And who makes any
doubt but that the greatest perfection of the hea-
vens consists in their regular motion, the princi-
pal cause of their duration, which order we should
come as near to as we can in our actions ; among
which sleeping and waking, being the hinges on
which all the others of our life depend — if there
be any irregularity in these, confusion and dh^
order must needs be expected in all the rest;
may be seen in the lives of courtiers of both sexes^
who turn night into day, and day into night, a
rourse of life much different from that which i^^
observed by the members of regulated conipanies.
Besides, it is the morning that not only holds a
stricter correspondence with the Muses, but ii
also the fittest time for the performance of all the
functions of bodv and mind. Then is it that
physicians prescribe exercise, in regard that the
body being cleared of the excrements of the first
and second concoelioOj is wholly disposed for the
distribution of aliment, and evacuation of the ex~
cremerits of the third ; so that he who passes
that part of the day about his affairs, besides the
expedition he acquires, does by that means main-
XMn the e;xr^-y cf h's body and mind, which is

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

Ill

commonly dulled by sleeping in the day-time;
which fills the head with vapours, and when
exercise comes to succeed it in the warmest part
of the day, the heat, which is then commonly
greatest, makes it less supportable. Therefore Na-
ture, which is a sure guide, inclines us to sleep in
the evening ; there being nothing but the multi-
plicity and distraction of evil affairs, which de-
priving us of that function, as it does of divers
others, makes the life of man so much the less
certain, the more he is involved in affairs; where-
as the duration of that of animals, and next to
them of country people, and such as comply with
the conduct of Nature, is commonly of a greater
length, and more certain.

Quest. — What is Friendship?

yfns. — Friendship is a powerful and strict union,
which unites the lover and the loved, like that
bond which in nature unites the matter and the
form, the accidents and the substance. The
eause of it is goodness, which, being propor-
tionate to the body, produces a natural amity ;
to the passions, an animal amity ; to the under-
standing a rational one; to the laws a political or
civil ; to religion a divine one. This goodness,
consisting in a proportion and symmetry, is not
different from beauty ; and therefore we appre- ^
hend beauty in good things, and goodness and
convenience in such as are handsome and graceful.

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Resides goodness, which is the cause of friend-
ship, and towards which our will is as necessarily
carried as the intellect is towards truth, and all
the senses towards their proper objects, resetn-
blance and friendship itself are the causes of friend-
ship. The first is founded upon the love we bear
to ourselves: for as we love ourselves above any-
thing else in this world, so we love those who re-
resemble us, and symbolize with our humours and
inclinations. Hence it is that one of the most
common courses to please is, to conform our-
selves to those by whom we desire to be affected ;
then friendship, the second means of acquiring
love, is no less effectual, it being almost impos-
sible not to love them who love us. .

Friendship must be distinguished from love ;
for love is a passion arising from the imagination
of a sensible good, and is found even in brute
beasts ; but friendship is one of the most excel-
lent virtues, or rather the fruit of acconiplished
dod perfect virtue. Virtue has place only among
excellent persons, uniting them together in the
exercises of virtue. Being once established, it is
very durable. Therefore Seneca pronounces that
the friendship which knows an end was never
true. Some friendships there are whose founda-
tion is profit and pleasure, but they are always
imperfect. Whence it is that old men and young
are ordinarily accounted incapable of true frierid-
ship ; the former, because they scarcely regard

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. ll^

any thing besides profit ; and the latter, because
their minds are more set upon what is pleasant
and agreeable, than upon what is honest and vir-
tuous. Nor is it ever found amongst wicked per-
sons. For a perfect friend must love another as
much as himself. And although the affection we
bear to ourselves be not true friendship, because
it must always have reference to another, yet it is
the most certain, yea the measure of perfect friend-
ship ; and God has appointed it as the rule of our
love to our neighbour. Now, how^ can he be a per-
fect friend who does not love himself? how can he
agree with another who accords not with himself?
for a vicious man is his own chief enemy, while
he pursues the false and imaginary good instead of
the true — vicfe instead of virtue ; and many times
he becomes his own murderer by intemperance
and other vices. He has always a civil war with-
in himself; his reason is never at peace with his
appetite; what one desires, the other rejects.
Consequently, he has never any inward joy ; but
he is greatly displeased with being alone, and for
that reason always seeks the company of those
like himself, to divert his sad thoughts.

There is nothing comparable to friendship^
which is the salt and seasoning of human life,
the preserver of societies, and the most agreeable
and sweetest consolation that persons of virtue
and honour can have ; by help of which a man
finds another self, to whom he may intrust his

114

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

most secret thoughts. It is therefore one of the
greatest blessings to have a friend, whom you may
make partaker of your feHcity, which is so much
the greater, when it is communicated to others
without being diminished to yourself; and in case
adversity befall you, the same is sweetened by the
relation you make thereof to him who shares this
burden with you, and so renders it more support-
able. True it is, that although a friend be ne-
cessary in either fortune, yet he is more advan-
tage to us in adversity ; in which a friend supplies
his friend with liealth and counsel, and is thereby
distinguished from a false one, who loves only
for the sake of his own pleasure and profit. Now
whatever is excellent has most of unity. And as a
river divided into several streams is more weak,
so friendship shared among many is always lan-
guid and impotent. Besides, a friend should be
complacent to his friend in everything, and they
ought to be but one soul living in two bodies.
Now it is as hard to please many, as it is impos-
sible to please all the world. And should two
friends at the same time implore the succour of a
third, he could not betake himself to both toge-
ther, nor consequently satisfy the duty of friend-
ship.

Friendshi}) is either natural, spiritual, or moral.
The natural is between father and children, bre-
thren and sisters, husband and wife, and between
kindred ov alliance. The spiritual is between

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 115

those who profess the same law and religion. The
moral is between such as are united together on
the account of virtue. It consists only in the
union of wills, not of understandings ; for I may
have an opinion different from that of my friend,
without prejudicing our friendship, but not a dif-
ferent will. And as honesty does not take away
piety, nor piety honesty ; so spiritual and moral
friendship do not destroy one another. For I
may love one morally whom I do not love spiri-
tually ; that is, I may unite with him in the exer-
cises of honesty or virtue, though 1 differ in those
of piety.

Quest, — Why do all men naturally desire
knowledge ?

Ans, — Several answers may be given though
the reason may appear different. Aristotle rightly
observes, that the first question ought to be whe-
ther the thing be, or exist; because it is in vain to
seek the causes of that which has no being. It is
therefore first to be inquired, whether it be true
that all men have a natural desire of knowledge,
and then the causes thereof must be sought. That
which is natural must be found in all ; so we
say it is natural to a stone to tend downwards, be-
cause all of them do so. But it is so far from
being true that all men are desirous to know and
learn, that, for rectifying the defect of such de-
sire, we see teachers sometimes trrmed with the

I 2

\16

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

rod, sometimes forced to use allurements and
rewards, and employ all imaginable artifices, to
excite a desire of learning in such as want it, the
number of whom is always greater than of others*
Hence it is that in a school of five hundred pupils
you shall scarcely find fifty that have well profited
in learning; and amongst a hundred masters of
trade, scarcely ten good workmen. Moreover,
there are some men who have not much less of
the beast than of the man. And as the greatest
clerks are not always the wisest men, so neither
are they the most happy. The best and most
knowing philosopiiers are not the men that do
their business best. It will be said, that to un-
derstand the means of advancing one's self is a sort
of knowledge; and they who have not a genius for
learning, have one for other things, and profit
therein as well as in the sciences. But I answer,
that philosophy being the key of all other disci-
pline, it is a sign they will not open the chest,
when they refuse the key of it.

All naturally desire to know, but not all things,
nor at all times, nor by all the ways prescribed
them ; every one would learn after his own mode
and things proportionable to his reach ; and as
when these conditions meet together, they excite
the desire ; so when any one is wanting, they
cause disgust. Thus one is passionately affected
to Algebra, which deters the wit of another. One
matter may please at the beginning, and become

HISTORY AND PHILOSOFHV. llj

distasteful in the continuance; and the same sub-
ject being created in familiar discourse will render
you attentive, yet displease you in a more lofty
style, which on the other side would content
some other. It is not therefore to he wondered,
if some minds have reluctancy against the con-
straint offered to be laid upon them. Supposing
this desire of knowledge not general, it is de-
manded how it comes to be so great in many per-
sons, that some have relinquished all their for-
tune for it, others have spent their whole age in
attaining it, others have put out their eyes the
better to attend it, and some lost their lives for it.
Surely they all do thus for some good. Now
good is divided into three kinds ; and, correspond-
ently, some do it for profit, fitting themselves to
gain themselves a livelihood; others for honour,
and to gain the prerogatives which know-
ledge procures to the most learned ; others, only
for the pleasure they find in study, and not for
the sake of knowledge itself ; for when we once
have attained the knowledge of a thing, it aflfords
us delight no longer ; whence it is that excellent
workmen are always poor, because so soon as they
have arrived to a perfection of skill, they leave all
further search to others ; their only pleasure was
in the acquisition ; this pleasure herein resem-
bling all other sorts, which consist only in action,
and not in acquiescence or satisfaction. But may

118

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

it not also be thus, because our soul being a num-
ber, always desires and aims to perfect itself?
And as no number can be assigned so great, but
some other may be added to it, even to infinity ;
so our soul is capable of receiving new light and
new notions, to infinity. Or else, as every thing
tends to its natural place ; so our soul, being of
celestial origin, aspires to the infinite knowledge
of God by that of finite things.

The reason why both young and old desire to
know, is, because of the extreme pleasure which
they take in knowing things. But if some be not
inclined to it, it is in regard of the difficulties,
which abate indeed, but cannot wholly extinguish
their natural ardour. This pleasure is apparent,
in that we take delight to know not only true
things, but such as we are conscious to be noto-
riously false : yea sometimes we are more de-
lighted with the latter than the former, provided
they have some pretty conceits, as with stories,
fables and romances. For there is nothing so small
and inconsiderable in nature, wherein the mind
finds not incomparable delight. " The gods,'' saith
Aristotle, are as vyell in the least insects, as in
the most bulky animals and to despise little
things is, in his judgment, to do like children.
For, on the contrary, as in art, the less place a
picture takes up, the more it is esteemed ; and
the Iliads of Homer were sometimes the more ad-

HISTOKY AND PHILOSOPHY. 1 19

mired for being comprised in a nutshell. So in
nature, the less volume things are in, the more
worthy they are of admiration. Now if there be
so much pleasure in seeing the figures and repre-
sentations of natural things, because sve observe
the workman's industry in them ; there is much
more contentment in clearly beholding those
things themselves, and remarking in their essence
properties and virtues, the power and wisdom of
nature far transcending that of art. But if the
knowledge of natural things afibrds us so great
dehght, thatof supernatural things delights us in a
higher measure ; and it is also much more diffi-
cult, because they are remote from our senses,
which are the ordinary conveyances of know-
ledge. Wherefore, there being pleasure in know-
ing both great things and small, natural and su-
pernatural : it is no wonder if man, who usually
follows delectable good, takes delight in knowing.

We love the sense of seeing above all the rest,
because it supplies us with more knowledge than
the rest; because man, being mindful of the place
of his origin, desires to raise himself above plants
and other animals : by sense he advances himself
above plants ; by memory above certain animals
who have none; by experience above them all;
but by the use of reason, from which proceeds
science, men excel one another. And, as Seneca
saith, men are all equal in their beginning and
their end, that is, as to life and death, not differ-

120

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

ing but in their interval, whereof science is the
fairest ornament. The cause of this desire of
knowing proceeds then from the natural inclina-
tion every thing has to follow its own good. Now
the good of man, as man, is to know. For as a
thing exists not but so far as it acts, therefore the
reasonable soul, being the most noble and perfect
of all forms, desires to employ itself incessantly
in its action, which is the knowledge of things.
Indeed every thing strives after its own operation.
As soon as the plant is issued out of the earth, it
thrusts forward till it comes to its just bigness.
The eye cannot without pain be hindered from
seeing ; silence causes sadness.

The intellect becomes every thing which it un-
derstands. Hence man, the most inconsistent of
all things, is carried so ardently to the knowledge
of all things; which finding not worthy of him,
he relinquishes, till he be arrived at the know^-
ledge of his Creator ; to whom conforming him-
self, he desires to know nothing more, but ac-
quiesces, contemplating in him, as in a mirror,
all other things of the world.

We have the seeds and treasures of knowledge
hidden in ourselves ; which, longing to be exerted
and reduced from power into act, incessantly soli-
cit us to put them forth. Hence comes the desire
of knowing, or rather awakening those species
which are perfected in us by use, and in time
whollv displayed. Teachers do not infuse know-

r

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

131

ledge into the children whom they instruct, but
only assist them to produce it out of folds and re-
cesses of the mind, in which otherwise it would
remain unprofitable, and like matter without
form. As the steel does not give fire to the flint,
but elicits the same of it, so those natural lights
and notices being at first enveloped with clouds,
when their veil is taken away, and they are
loosened from the contagion of the senses, they
extremely delight those who bore them inclosed
in their breast, and needed help to exclude them.

Quest, — Is there such a thing in nature as a
Vacuum ; and what are the opinions of the learned
about it ?

Ans, — The vulgar call that empty which is not
filled with some visible body. But the philoso-
phers give this name to a place destitute of all
corporeity whatsoever, yet capable of being filled ;
at least, if any such can be in nature ; for it can-
not be understood of those imaginary spaces be-
yond the heavens, which, Pythagoras said, served
for their respiration, whereof he conceived they
stood in need, as animals do. Democritus and
Leucippus admitted a twofold vacuum : one in
the air, serving for local motion ; the other in all
mixed bodies requisite to the internal growth, and
also to the lightness of things ; alleging that ac-
cording as their atoms are closely or loosely con-
nected, and of various figures, so bodies are light

«

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

or heavy. Bat these opinions being antiquated,
some adhere to the common one, which admits
no vacuum at all.

Others say, that since nature abhors a vacuum,
there must be such a thing; for of two contraries,
one supposes the other. And indeed it is impos-
sible for any local motion, condensation or rare-
faction, and inward augmentation, to be made
without admitting vacuity : for, as for local mo-
tion, when a body removes out of place, that
into which it enters is either full or empty ; not
full, for then it could not receive a new body
without penetration of dimensions, which nature
cannot suffer, therefore it must be empty. For
this reason, Melissus affirmed that all things are
immoveable ; for being unable to comprehend
how motion could be made without, and unwil-
ling to admit vacuity, therefore he denied both.
To say that bodies give way one to another, is
to increase the difficulty instead of resolving it ;
for the body which gives place to another must
displace a third, and this a fourth, and so to
infinity. Moreover, a vacuum is proved by con-
densation and rarefaction ; for the former being
made when a body is reduced into a lesser ex-
tent, and its parts approach nearer one another
without loss of any, either these parts penetrate
one another, or else there was some void space,
which is possessed by themselves when they are
pressed together, seeing, if they had been so con-

HISTORY AND t*HILOSOPHY. 1

tiguous as that there were not any empty pores
between them, they would not have come closer
together. Likewise rarefaction^ being caused when
the parts recede one from another, if no other
body interpose, there must needs be a vacuum
between the parts, or else they must have been
one within another. If it be said, that propor-
tionably as one thing is condensed in one place,
another is as much rarefied somewhere else, to
fill up the vacuum, and so on the contrary ; this
is harder to be conceived than a vacuum. Lastly,
accretion, or growth, which is caused by the
reception of aliment in the body, could not be
made, if there were not some void passages to
receive this aliment. And, to conclude, expe-
rience shews us, that a pail of water will receive
its own measure of ashes or lime, which it could
not do if there were no vacuity.

A third opinion is, that every thing affects
unity, not only because God, who is the universal
cause of all, is one, and most simple, and every
thing ought to be like its cause ; but that all
things find their good in unity, as they do their
ruin in disunion. Wherefore every thing in the
world is so united, that there is not any empty
space between two ; and contiguity is as neces-
sary in the parts of the world, as contiguity in
those of a living creature: for if there were a
vacuum in the world, the heavens would not
transmit their influences into the elements and

124 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

their compounds, for the preservation of which
the same are absolutely necessary ; considering
that, whatever acts upon a distant thing, must
do it by some medium uniting the agent and the
patient.

But it is said, that since nature offers violence
to herself, to prevent inanity, and all things quit
their particular interest for that of the publick,
undoubtedly there is no such thing as a vacuum
in nature ; for we see that she makes heavy things
to ascend, light things to descend, and breaks
the solidest and strongest things without any
external violence, only to avoid the inconvenience
of vacuity. If bellows be compressed, and the
holes stopped, no human force can expand them
without breaking : a bottle, of what material
soever, filled with boiling water and stopped, and
put into cold, immediately flies into pieces. You
cannot draw wine out of a vessel, unless you
give entrance to the air by some hole. A vessel
being full of heated air, and its orifice applied to
the water, sucks the same upwards ; a cupping-
glass, when the heated and subtile air in it be-
comes condensed and takes up less room, attracts
the flesh into itself. Syphons and pumps, by
which the water is made to ascend higher than
its source, are founded wholly upon this avoiding
of vacuity. Our own bodies also afford an in-
stance ; for the aliment could not be assimilated
in each part, without the suction and attraction

HISTORY AND 3*111 LOSOPHY* 125

which is made of it, to supply the wants of what
is consumed by exercise ^or heat ; otherwise the
blood and nourishment would tend only down-
wards by their own weight. And what makes
the effect of blood-letting and evacuation so sen-
sible, but this very flight of vacuum ?

A notable vacuity, and of great extent, cannot
be without a miracle ; but some small inter-
spersed vacuities may be between the particles of
the elements and compounds, like the pores of
our bodies : for Nature abhors the former, and
can do nothing without the latter ; it being im-
possible for qualities to be transmitted to any
subject through a great vacuum, which would
hinder the perception of our senses, and the fire
itself from heating at the least distance. There
could be no breathing in it ; birds could not
fly in it: in brief, no action could be exercised
in it but those whereof the principle is in the
thing itself, and which needs no medium, as local
motion, which w-ould be more easily made, be-
cause there could be no resistance.

Nature does what she can to hinder a vacuum,
yet suffers one when she is forced to it ; for if
you suck all the air out of a bottle, then stop it
exactly, and having put it under water, with the
mouth downwards, open it again, the water will
immediately ascend, to fill the vacuity left by the
exsuction of the air. And if with a syringe you
force air into a vessel strong enough to endure

126

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

such violence, when the pores of the air, which
were empty before, come to be filled, it will, of
its own accord, drive out the water very impe-
tuously, which was first put into it. Likewise,
though the air naturally keeps above the water,
yet, by enclosing it in some sort of vessel, you
may violently make it continue under the water.

Quest. — Pray oblige me with the several opi-
nions you have met with concerning the capri-
cious or extravagant humours of women ?

Ans, — It should not be thought that all wo-
men are capricious ; but only the reason inquired
of those that are so, and why are they more than
man ? To allege the difference of souls, and
suppose that as there is an order in the celestial
hierarchies, whereby the Archangels are placed
above Angels, so the spirits of men are more per-
fect than those of women, were to fetch a reason
too far off, and prove one obscure thing by ano-
ther more so. Nor is the cause to be found in
their bodies, taken in particular ; for then the
handsome would be free from this vice, the ac-
tions which borrow grace from their subject ap-
pearing to us of the same nature, and conse-
quently their virtues would seem more perfect,
and iheir defects more excusable; whereas, for
the most part, the fairest are the most culpable.
We must therefore recur to the correspondence
and proportion of the body and the soul ; for

HISTORY AKD PHILOSOPHY. 127

sometimes a soul lights upon a body so well
framed, and organs so commodious for the exer-
cise of its faculties, that there seems more of a
superurbem than of a man in its actions, whence
some persons of either sex attract the admiration
of the world. On the contrary, other souls are so
ill lodged, that their actions have less of man
than of brute; and because there are more women
than men found, whose spirits are ill quartered
and faculties depraved, hence comes their capri-
cious and peevish humour. The manner of living
to which the laws and customs subject women,
contribute much to their defects ; for, leading
a sedentary life, wherein they have also the same
objects before their eyes, and their minds not
being diverted by civil actions, as those of men
are, they make a thousand reflections upon their
present condition, comparing it with those whereof
they account themselves worthy. This puts
their modesty to the rack, and oftentimes carries
them beyond the respect and bounds which they
proposed to themselves ; especially if a woman of
good wit sees herself married by a weak husband,
and is ambitious of shewing herself. Another,
judging herself to merit more than her rival, not
knowing to whom to complain of her unhappi-
ness, does every thing in spite.

The word capricious is used to signify the
extravagant humour of most women, because there
is no animal they resemble more than a goat,

128

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

whose motions are so irregular : for such as
have searched into the nature of this animal find
that its blood is so sharp, and spirits so ardent,
that it is always in a fever ; and hence it is, that
being agitated with this heat, which is natural to
it, it leaps as soon as it comes into the world.
Now the cause of this temper is the conformation
of the brain, which they say is like that of a
woman ; the ventricles of which being very small,
are easily filled with sharp and biting vapours,
which cannot evaporate, as Aristotle affirms, be-
cause their sutures are closer than those of men.
Those vapours prick the nerves and membranes,
and so cause those extraordinary and capricious
motions. Hence it is that women are more sub-
ject to the megrims, and other diseases in the
head, than men. And as those that sell a goat
never warrant it sound, as they do other animals,
there is no less excuse in reference to women :
which caused the Emperor Aureliusto say, that
his father-in-law Antoninus, who had done so
much to others, had done him mischief enough
in giving him his daughter, because he found so
much bone to pick in a little flesh." Moreover,
the Naturalists say that the goat is an enemy to
the olive-tree, which is a symbol of peace, where-
unto women are not over well-afiected : forj
not to mention the first divorce which woman
caused between God and man, by her liquorish-
ness, her talking, her ambition, her luxury, he

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 1S9

obstinacy, and other vices, are the most common
causes of all the quarrels which arise in famiHes
and in civil life. If you would have a troop of
goats pass over any difficult place, you need force
but one to doit, and all the rest will follow:
so women are naturally envious, and no sooner
see a new fashion but they must follow it. And
gardeners compare women and girls to a flock of
goats, who roam and browse incessantly, holding
nothing inaccessible to their curiosity. There is\
but one considerable difference between them :
the goat wears horns, and the women makes/
others wear them.

A third opinion is, that there is more resem-
blance between a woman and a mule, than be-
tween a woman and a goat. For the mule is the
most testy and capricious of all beasts, fearing a
shadow more than a spur ; so* a woman fears
every thing but what she ought to fear. The
obstinacy of the mule, which is so great that it
has grown into a proverb, is inseparable from
the whole sex, most of them being gifted with a
spirit of contradiction. Mules delight to go in
companies ; so do women. The bells and muz-
zles of the one have some correspondence with
the ear-rings and veils of the others; and both
love priority. The more quiet you allow a mule,
it becomes the more restive ; so women become
more vicious in idleness. Neither of them wil-
lingly admits the bridle between their teeth.

130 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Lastly, the mule that has seemed most tractable
all its time, one day of other pays his master
with a kick ; and the woman that has seemed
most discreet, at one time or other commits some
notorious folly.

Those who invented the little medals repre-
senting the upper part of a woman and the lower
of a mule, commend this sex while they think to
blame it ; for there is nothing more healthy,
strong, patient of hunger and the injuries of
seasons, or that bears more, or is more service-
able, than a mule. Now, if certain actions of
women seem full of perverseness and caprice to
some, possibly others will account them to pro-
ceed from vivacity of spirit and greatness of
courage ; and as the Poet, in great commendation
of his black mistress, chanted her cheeks of jet
and bosom of ebony, so, whatever some people's
mistake may say to the contrary, the most capri-
cious woman is the most becoming. Nor is this
humour unprofitable to them ; for as people are
not forward to provoke a mule, for fear of kicks,
so we are more shy of women than otherwise we
should be, for fear of caprices ; yet some hold
that this capriciousness of women follows the
moon ; others, that the flower of beans contri-
butes very much to it.

If credit is to be given to experience, Solomon,
who had a thousand women, compares an ill
capricious woman to a tigress and a lioness.

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. I3I

Such were Medea, Xantippe, and many others.
Moreover, the Poets say that the Gods, intending
to punish Prometheus for having stolen the ce-
lestial fire, gave him a wife. And when Satan
afflicted Job, he deprived him of his flocks, of
his houses, and of his children ; but had a care
not to take his wife from him, knowing that this ,
was the only way to make him desperate, as it i
would have done without God's special grace. '
The Rabbins say, three sorts of persons were
exempted from public charges, and could not be
called into judgment; namely, the poor, the
nephritic, and he that had a bad wife ; because
they had business enough at home, without need-
ing any abroad. The laws, likewise, exempted
new-married men from going to the wars the first
year of their marriage; allowing them this time,
which is the roughest and most important, to
reduce their fierce spouses to duty ; which if the
husband could not effect, a little bill of divorce
did the business. Though the Chaldeans used
not so much formality, but only extinguished
the domestic fire which the priest kindled at the
marriage ; yet the privilege was not reciprocal,
neither divine nor human laws having ever al-
lowed women to relinquish their husbands ; for
then, being as capricious and inconstant as they
are, they would have changed every day. For
the same reason, the laws have always pro-
hibited to women the administration of public

K 2

133i THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

affairs. And the religion of the Mahometan
Arabians assigns them a paradise apart ; because,
say they, if the woman should come into the
paradise of the man, they would disturb all the
feast.

Quest. — How did beasts come into islands? and
bow did some remote islands come first to be in-
habited ?

Ans. — The latter question appears the less dif-
ficult ; and, as the former may, perhaps, have some
dependence on it, shall be first answered. As His-
tory leaves us in the dark, all we can do is to
advance some probable hypothesis, which must
stand till it appears chargeable with any absur-
dity. We say then that the world was first peo-
pled from the East, as Holy Writ assures, and
history and reason persuade ; arts and arms first
flourished there, and almost innumerable armies
appeared in early times, whence repeated numbers
still issuing, in the same course with the sun,
proceeded from place to place, and island to
island, we mean those less remote from the conti-
nent, and which in clear weather might be seen
from it, and ships easily got thither, for there
was shipping as early as Noah. But what is it to
those more remote, as America, when the com-
pass was not invented ; first, let that be j)roved an
island, and then we will dispute further on it: in
the mean time we shall take the liberty to suppose

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 133

on, that it was peopled from the North-west part of
Tartary, which, if not a continent, must yet be
much nearer to those parts than our side of the
world. — For the second question : Beasts might
pass the same way, and perhaps easier than men.
If it is all land, through inaccessible snows and
woods ; if only some strait and narrow sea sepa-
rates, nothing more common than for sailors in
that part of the world to find great numbers of
living beasts floating on the ice ; and this way, as
well as others, wild beasts might be driven over,
or be there without so much trouble, if we admit
this following hypothesis, wherein I can see no
absurdity. That there were islands before the
flood cannot be proved by history or reason. Let
us suppose there were none, but some actually
made by its fury and violence ; other parts of the
continent, only disposed or prepared for islands,
continuing joined by a very small isthmus; while
that remained, there was a bridge large enough
for beasts to go over, which being, in process of
time, worn away, whereof tradition, observation,
and history, give us instances, those peninsulas
were thereby transformed into complete islands.

Quest. — What is the cause of titillation ?

Ans. — Lord Bacon has observed, that a man is
the most ticklish where the shin is thinnest,
which, as he adds, causes a quicker emission of the
sj)irits ; but this cannot be the efficient reason,

134 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

because another can tickle ine where 1 cannot
tickle myself, and my skin is no thicker when
another touches it than when 1 touch it myself.
The certain reason is, the abundance of nerves,
which are the ministers of sensation, as, for ex-
ample, the palms of the hands, and the soles of
the feet, are very nervous ; another reason is, the
unaccustomedness of touching those places, as
appears in this — That the hand is not so ticklish
as the foot, because it is more used to it.

Quest. — Whether it is possible for any person
to die of conceit ?

u4ns. — Fancy is very strong in some persons,
especially in those of a melancholy disposition :
the reason of the Doctor, in the reign of King
James the First, who undertook either to kill or
cure by fancy, is no foreign answer to the ques-
tion. The Doctor begged some condemned per-
sons to make the trial; and choosing one amongst
the rest whose constitution he thought might be
most proper to work upon, he preserved him till
the last, settling the rest, one after another, up to
the chin in warm water afterwards ; opened a vein,
and let them bleed to death, using to them that
stood by such remarks as — Now such and such
veins are exhausted ; now so and so till they ex-
pired ; and coming to the last person, he was ac-
cordingly stripped, and placed like the rest, when
the Doctor made a false orifice that would not

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 135

bleed, using the same remarks of him to the by-
standers as he did of the rest ; and when he was
going to make the last remark he made for the
rest, the person swooned away, and died without
loss of blood, purely by fancy.

Quest. — What place does the Sun set in, and
where does it rise ?

j4ns, — All the world over.

Quest, — What is worse than Ingratitude?
j4ns, — — — — —

Quest, — What is the reason that simple water
distilled from green herbs is white and clear,
without the least tincture of green in it?

Ans, — Colour in general consists in these two
things, a certain disposition of the parts of the
matter to be seen, and the medium through which
it is seen. For instance, a coal has millions
of little pores when viewed by a microscope,
which imbibe the light, and being not able to
make that reflection that a closer body can, gives
that idea which we call blackness. White is
always found in a body which has an infinite
number of asperous little pointed particles of
matter, which, by their aptitude to give a great
confused reflected light, afford us the colour
which is called by that name ; and thus the
Via Lactea in the heavens, which appears white,

13^ THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

is only a multitude of little stars, which are only
discernible by the help of a good telescope; these,
by their variety of reflections, which by reason of
their closeness cause a confusion of light, give an
idea of whiteness. Again, the change of the
light medium alters the colour of things, as by
day- light silk and gold have other colours than
they have in the night. This premised, the
question is very readily resolved, and all questions
of the same nature ; as, why red port should turn
to white wine in its passage ? The reason is this :
the disposition of parts that was in the liquid are
by motion and fermentation altered, and, by con-
sequence, the same light falling upon different po-
sitions of the particles of which any liquid is com-
pounded, must necessarily give a diflferent reflec-
tion, or produce in us a diflferent idea of colour.

Quest. — Why the Moon's beams do not convey
a warmth as the Sun's beams do?

j^ns, — The first reason is, the great distance
the Moon is from us, and, consequently, the rays
of the Sun are reflected very weakly. Were we
upon the Moon, we should find the rays reflect
from all around its atmosphere as the rays of the
Sun falling on the Earth reflect a great heat, espe-
cially from walls and sides of houses ; and even as
our culinary fires, having a metal reflector set be-
hind the meat while roasting, reflect a great heat
back again. The second reason may be, the

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. I37

roughness and porosity of the Moon's body, which
is not so apt for reflection as if it were smooth and
close. And lastly, because of the globosity of the
Moon ; for, being round, it reflects the Sun's rays
every way, and does not collect them so strongly
for any one place as if it were a plain or other
fio^ure.

Quest. — If the Moon has no innate light of its
own, what is that faint light that may be seen
when the Moon is in the new, as we call it, for
all the rest of the circumference besides the little
enlightened parts has a weak light?

j4ns. — As that planet is a Moon to our Earth, so
our Earth is as it were a Moon to that planet, and
it is the reflection of the Sun's light from our Earth
upon the planet which gives it that weak light.

Quest. — Whence proceeds weeping and laugh-
ing for the same cause r

Ans, — It is from an equal compressure cf the
muscles, by the passions ; as, for instance, touch
a place of your body, and it itches ; rub the same
place hard, and it smarts. In like manner, when
the passions act easily upon the muscles, a smile
ensues ; if a little harder, it causes laughter ; if
harder, it causes laughter and crying at the same
time ; but if it be very violent, jt causes only
crying.

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Quest. — Why an owl can see better by faint
and imperfect light, than at such time as when the
sun shines in its vigour?

u4ns, — Some creatures have the pupil of their
eye very large, and are not subject to so little a
contraction as is requisite for a great light ; as
cats, rats, mice, owls, and some few more :
whereas, the generality of creatures are naturally
furnished with pupils, or eyesights, that will grow
greater or less according to the degree of light.
As, for instance, when a man has been in the
dark for some considerable time, and comes sud-
denly into a light place; or when a candle is
brought into a dark room, and a man wakes out
of his sleep — the sudden light dazzles the eye, by
reason the pupil of the eye was extended before
to co-operate with the act of visibility ; nor can
the eye be easy till it has again received a proper
degree of contraction for the quality of light, and
a due representation of objects. This may also
be farther confirmed by this instance : cover one
of your eyes, and the pupil of the other will dilate
to supply the office of that which is covered ; un-
cover that eye again, and the other pupil will
contract, for the reason above. From the one it
appears that the creatures above-named, being
furnished witli a great eye, sights which admit
not of a contraction proper for great lights can
see best in lesser lights; yet they cannot see at all
where there is no light.

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. I39

Quest, — Whether the least particle of matter is
infinitely divisible ?

Ans, — Yes, if you can find eyes always strong
enough to discern the last subdivision, and instru-
ments fine enough for such subdivisions ; also, if
both this strong eye and fine instrument will last
for ever ; for infinite divisions, and infinite time or
eternity, if you please to call it so, are inseparable.
16 Prop. 3 Euclid, will tell you something more
of this nature, if you are mathematically inclined.

Quest, — What is the reason that Millers are
more usually deaf than other persons ?

Ans, — We read that those people that live
near the fall of the River Nile cannot hear one
another unless they speak loud, and with an ex-
treme vehemency ; and that they soon become
deaf ; which proceeds from a continued and too
much extension of the membrane of the ear called
the drum. We have an instance in the Philoso-
phical Transactions, of a person that could hear
when he rode in a coach ; but when he was in a
room, or silent place, where there was no vehe-
ment agitation of air to extend the sunken mem-
brane, he heard not without diflBculty; and thus
it is with a miller, whose employ is amongst a con-
tinued noise of waters, &c. ; for the drum of the
ear, being continually stretched by the agitation of
the air, when he comes out of the noise grows
remiss, therefore not so capable of hearing as be-

140 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

fore; just as an alteration is effected in the sound
of another drum, according to the straitness or
looseness of its bearing.

Quest. — What is the most delightful thing to
a man in this world ?

Ans — Much as he is. If intemperate and luxu-
rious, he delights most in what he ought most to
be ashamed of; virtuous men will take the great-
est delight in fair and virtuous actions, the noblest
whereof we esteem to be obliging a friend, or for-
giving an enemy. But were we asked what it is
we esteem most delightful to the most of men, we
should make no scruple to affirm, it is getting
money ; since for this only they will lose their
pleasure, part with their virtue, and sell their
honour.

Qwe*^.- -Whether it is better to lose the sioht,
or hearing ?

Ans. — Seeing is the more pleasant, hearing the
more useful sense. Without hearing, if born
deaf, or so from infancy, it is not easy to conceive
how any can be taught so much as the principles
of Religion, or any useful knowledge; both which
are frequently found to great perfection in the
blind, they being generally masters of vast me-
mories, as having none of those objects which so
frequently distract our thoughts by employing
our eyes. Not but that there have been some,

HISTORV AND PHILOSOPHY. 141

who, having been deaf from their nativity, or in-
fancy, have almost unaccountably attained to the
knowledge of many useful truths, and under-
standing what is said, by observing the motion of
the speaker s lips, nay, sometimes only by feeling
them speak, or laying their hand on their mouth
while they do it ; whereof see a remarkable story
in the Reverend Bishop of Sarum's Letters, Letter
IV. p. 248.

Quest. — Why is it that the Sun can easily en-
lighten with its rays the deepest waters, and yet
cannot penetrate the clouds, which dissolve into
nothing but water ?

Ans. — It is because there are many earthy ex-
halations, and smoky vapours taken up into the
clouds, which make it so obscure and dark, that
the Sun cannot entirely penetrate to give light.
And that the waters, on the contrary, that are of
themselves clear and neat, are more susceptible of
the light and brightness of the Sun.

Quest. — How comes it that the heat of the
Sun makes our flesh tawny and black, and, on the
contrary, whitens linen ?

Ans. — Because its heat boiling the humours of
our bodies, they become blackish, and by that
means stain our skin. But linen drying itself
more easily in the Sun becomes wliiter, the liu-
niidity thereof being evaporated ; for it is huini-

142

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

dity that takes away from it its whiteness, even as
it may be perceived that water thrown upon on a
whited wall will blacken it ; but, when dried up, it
returns to its whiteness.

Quest, — Why is snow so profitable to the fruits
of the earth ?

Ans, — By covering the earth, it protects the
fruits from the cold of the winter ; it hinders the
growing of useless herbs ; it partakes somewhat of
fatness, because of the air inclosed in it ; which,
melted into water, is fattening to the earth. If
fruits bud too soon, it drives away the vigour to
the root, by which means they are better nou-
rished.

Quest. — Which is hardest, to get, or to keep,
an estate, knowledge, or the like ?

Ans. — As the harder a weight is to be lifted
up, it is the harder to be held up; so the more la-
bour there is in acquiring, the more there is also
in preserving the thing acquired. Hence those
who have undergone hard toils to get an estate,
are more busied in keeping it than they who re«
ceive one from another without pains. On which
account it was, that Aristotle says, " Benefactors
love those they do good to, better than they are
beloved by them, because it is more trouble to
oblio^e than to be obliged ; and women love and
preserve their children so tenderly and dearly, be-

HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 143

cause of the pain they undergo in bringing them
forth. Yet, because this sex is designed to look
after the goods of the family, and men to procure
them, it may seem thereby that it is harder to get
than to keep ; otherwise the strongest would not
have the more difficult task, which equity and
justice require them to have.

Quest, — Why have some naturally their hair
curled ?

Ans. — Galen gives many reasons ; saying, the
hair curls from the hot and dry temperament of
the persons ; as one may perceive that all small
bodies, long and strait, dried by the fire, do bow
and fold. Or else this may proceed, says he,
from the feebleness of the matter of the hair ;
which, being not able to remain straight in its
length, doth bow and bend itself back again ; or
else, according to Aristotle, this may proceed
from the double motion of the matter of hairs
which is fuliginous exhalations : thus, being
something hot and dry, and by that means par-
taking both of an earthy and fiery quality, the
earthy tending downwards, and the fiery upwards,
it must necessarily follow, that by this double
and contrary motion the hair be curled. All which
reasons are very probable.

144

THE AT[fKMAN ORACLE.

PART II.

(QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

ON

DIVINITY.

Quest. — What is the reason that the Evange-
lists say nothing of what happened to our Sa-
viour hefore his thirteenth year, excepting only
the disputation with the Doctors when he was
about twelve, which St. Luke relates ?

Ans. — The end an Author proposes to himself
in writing should be his rule to direct him what
to say, and what to omit ; and it was not the de-
sign of the Evangelists, simply to write the life of
our Saviour, but to transmit the Gospel to poste-
rity, that is, a doctrine, which, under the condi-
tion of repentance and future obedience, promises
to man the forgiveness of sins, and eternal life '*
which Gospel is composed of two parts, one of
which is doctrinal, the other historical, of which

DIVINITY. 145

last they have made no more use than was neces-
sary to confirm this doctrine, as the history of
the miracles, death, resurrection, and ascension of
Jesus Christ, which could properly begin only at
his baptism, because it was from that time he be-
gan publicly to preach and to do miracles. So
the Evangelists have omitted all that passed be-
fore; and if they had said any thing, it ought ra-
ther to have been looked upon as a kind of pre-
amble, to make the person of our Saviour known,
than the beginning of an exact history of his life.

Quest, — It being certain from history that
thos€ who have been founders of Laws have gene-
rally pretended divine inspiration for them, as
Lycurgus, Numa, Mahomet, and others ; by
what criterion may we discover when such pre-
tensions as these are false and fabulous ; and, if
there be any such, when they are true and r^al ?

Ans, — It cannot be denied that we ought to be
very cautious that we have as good testimony and
argument as the nature of the thing will bear, be-
fore we believe any such revelations ; the conse-
quences of it being so very great, as we are more
careful in receiving gold than baser metals, be-
cause the loss is greater if false coin be put upon
us. Nor yet, on the other side, is there any ne-
cessity, or reason, for fear of being over-credulous,
to run into the contrary extreme; such a complete
scepticism being a greater enemy to science than

L

146 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

credulity itself, because the credulous man may
believe something that is false, but the sceptic no-
thing that is true, though he has never so certain
and necessary cause persuading its belief.

It is extremely suspicious that a pretence to in-
spiration is false and ill-grounded, when those are
wicked men who pretend to have it.

Nor is it any more reasonable to believe a man
in such cases on his own single word, without any
better or stronger attestation. Indeed, this seems
so far from reasonable, that it is highly ridicu-
lous ; for it makes the testimony degenerate from
divine to purely human, as far as concerns us,
even supposing it could be true. This must be
granted, that, if the mission of any person from
Heaven has been nrst attested in an extraordinary
manner, it is but reasonable to believe him for the
future, for the work's sake, unless he plainly de-
stroys what he before built; for we are not to
suppose God would attest an impostor, and what
God does attest must of necessity be true. But
he who pretends to come in the name of God, in
an extraordinary manner, as inspired by Him,
and yet has no credentials, no undoubted sign or
miracle to attest his mission ; he really comes in
his own name, and deserves to be treated as an
impostor.

Nor can any laws have a divine origin when
they are contradictory to the laws of Nature,
coiumon moralit}'', or right reason. Now that

DIVINITY. 147

there is such a thing as law natural, or some com-
mon incHnations to^ and sentiments of, what is
just and right, has been granted even by the
worst of men, a Dionysius himself owning some
respect for it, and refusing to violate that law, at
the same time he owned he had broken those of
his country. Indeed, the best and clearest test of
a law must be common unprejudiced reason, if
it is against that, so as to be absurd and ridiculous
plainly prejudicial to the interests of mankind,
destructive of Religion and morality, it cannot
with any propriety be said to be a law, nor can it
proceed from God. And further, if we had not
a natural power, when unprejudiced, of making
a judgment in such cases, why would God appeal
to us concerning the equality of his ways ?

Nov/ the opposites to all these must be the
surest notices of true revelation : as, 1. When
we observe a man of an exemplary holy life, no
way enthusiastical, full of unaffected religion
and devotion, not given to superstition, not cre-
dulous or ambitious, or covetous, or unjust ; of
good sense, of a candid and brave temper : it
is not at all reasonable to believe he will impose
any falsehood upon mankind ; and if God reveal
himself at all, it is much more probable he will
do it to such an one, than to one of a quite con-
trary character : and what is so probable it can-
not be unreasonable to believe, though it is so not
to believe it when we have positive arguments for

L 2

148

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

the reality of it, and that the most demonstrative
that the nature of the thing is capable of.

For, in the second place, the same reason that
makes it highly weak to believe any matter of
fact, especially of so great consequence, where it
is not thoroughly attested, makes it as ridiculous
and extravagant to refuse or disown our belief to
such fact as has sufficient and indubitable testi-
monies to confirm it, as strong and convincing,
and perhaps more so, than any we have for our
own estates or parents, or that there were such
persons as Julius Caesar or Alexander. And in
this number may we reckon numerous witnesses
to the truth of some things evidently surpassing
the power of art and nature, in confirmation of
any law, as of divine origin ; especially when, in
the last place, the matter of this law is highly
agreeable to the laws of nature and unprejudiced
reason ; when it plainly tends to the making of
mankind wiser, and better, and happier. And,
as a corollary to the whole, we may fairly add,
that such laws as are contrary to those which
we have all the reasons alleged to believe divinely
inspired cannot themselves be so, because God
can no more reveal contradictions than he can act
them.

It will be proper now to bring all this to bear,
and make it plain and useful, by descending to
instances in the most famed Legislators of former

DIVINITY. 149

ages, who pretended divine authority, and an
immediate mission from Heaven.

We shall confine ourselves to those mentioned
in the objection, Lycurgus, Numa, Mahomet,
adding Solon. And here, not to detract from
the wisdom and j^enius which most or all of
these men were really possessed of, nor from
some good principles they seem to be endowed
with, this, in the beginning, lies against them
all — that they were not so much as honest men,
much less religious, who would endeavour to
persuade their people that they came immediately
from God, when it was all an imposture. It is
not sufficient to urge, in their excuse, that it
was for the benefit of their people, and only a
pious fraud ; for the falsehood and arrogancy is
the same, and cannot change its nature from any
prudential reasons ; nay, worse, all of them are
guilty of blasphemy, as well as forgery, for en-
titling the Divine Being to laws so contradictory
to His nature, and that reason He has printed on
the breasts of all mankind. Nor can there be a
greater argument of the falseness of their rules
than the methods they used to support them, for
truth can never need falsehood to strengthen or
recommend it. Of Lycurgus, it gives deep
suspicion of his cruelty and loose inclinations,
that he made such laws for his citizens, not for
an exigency only, and, as Solon said of his,
because they would receive no better but such

150 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

as he used all means to render eternal, and wisely
starved himself to make them so ; and that, when
he had the citizens under his power, he might
have imposed what he pleased upon them ; and
in effect did what must needs have been much
more difficult and grievous, as the equahty of
lands, estates, and several others, nay, the secret
laws, and that of the children, which were plainly
his own imposition and invention, and seem to
proceed from his nature, not any political ne*
cessity that may be urged in their defence. It is
true, he forgave Alexander, when he struck out
his eye, and it was the most politic thing he
could do ; for thereby he made many of the citi-
zens his friends, which otherwise might have
proved his desperate and implacable enemies.

Solon, whatever his wisdom might be, certainly
w?LS not so extraordinary for his honesty. There
could not be a more soft, effeminate, licentious
man, than he was.

Numa, according to the account historians
give us, was the best man of all the heathen law-
givers ; but yet is not without such faults as were
wholly inexcusable. He was intolerably super-
stitious and enthusiastic ; he would not so much
as accept the crown of Rome till he had asked
leave of every crow or owl that fiew^ by him. He
propagated these foolish superstitions among the
people, and rooted them so deep in their religion
and common conversation, that it made them

DIVINITY. 151

weak and fearful on the most frivolous and ridi-
culous occasions, which sometimes was the loss
of generals, armies, and kingdoms, taking them
off from a wiser dependance on Heaven, and,
with submission to that, making use of their
own valour and reason ; and if there was some-
times a brave man who shook off these shackles,
he was looked upon little better than an atheist.

Mahomet is hardly fit to be mentioned ; every
one knows he was the lewdest impostor that ever
abused mankind.

Nor does most of the evidence they bring for
the divinity of their laws amount to any more
than their own good word ; at least, none of them
came attested in such a manner as necessary to
persuade a wise man they were sent from Heaven.

Lycurgus, for his famous Rheira, which he
pretends he received at Delphos, had no wit-
ness but himself and a priestess. Indeed he
travelled both into Crete and Egypt, making an
acquaintance with the principal men in both
places, to get what he could from them, where
he collected some of his laws, making additions
of his own ; and his pretending he received them
from Heaven seems to be an imitation of the
Jewish Legislator, who certainly had his laws
from thence, and whose story he must have heard.
Besides, his way of promulgating his laws is a
clear evidence that he had not sufficient attesta-
tion of the divine authority, to which all men,

152

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

as soon as convinced, immediately submit: for
he did it by force and armed men, whom he
drew up into the market-place when his project
was ripe, and frightened poor Charilaus so much,
that he ran to sanctuary on apprehension of
treason.

Solon, too, pretends an oracle; but he makes
little of it, and so it is not worthy of notice.

But for Numa, he quite glutted his barbarous
Romans with cheat and prodigy. He made them
believe strange visions were seen and prophetic
voices heard, and almost frightened them out of
their senses to get them to embrace his religion ;
and this he so long used them to, till, as Plutarch
tells us, there was nothing so ridiculous but he
could make them believe it.

Mahomet, to say truth, is the pleasantest fel-
low of them all : if he had no miracles, he made
it up to the full with lying wonders. Indeed,
most of his miracles were near a-kin to tran-
substantiation ; removing mountains, while they
stood still where they were. It is true, if you
will believe him, Alborach and he travelled many
thousand leagues together, the self-same road
that Gonzales since took with his Gazas, and
Bergerac with his bottles of may-dew and mar-
row-bones ; and well worth their pains was it, for
they brought back the Alcoran with them ; but
not so much as one angel's hand or mark to con-
firm it, of all those that he met and talked with

DIVINITY- 153

In his journey. He had indeed^ once on a time,
a voice out of the earth, not from Heaven, which
proclaimed him the great Prophet of God. But
the subtle knave w^as resolved the poor fellow,
whom he had placed in a hollow cavern for the
purpose, should never tell tales out of school, or
recant what he had said ; and for that reason
made his followers immediately fill up the cave's
mouth with heaps of stones, and bury the wretch
alive, while he was in so good a mind.

Add to this, if there needed any more, that
the most ingenious writers among the heathens
do now and then, in spite of their religion, drop
such things as show plainly they thought it all an
imposture. And this not poets or epicureans
only, but the gravest and most learned among
them, their very priests, and those that were
initiated in their highest mysteries. Tully's opi-
nion is very well known in these matters, and
has been often pubhshed to the world. But
Plutarch is yet more fair and ingenuous ; for,
after he has said all he could of his Numa, in
defence of Lycurgus and other heathen lawgivers'
inspiration, of which, to say true, he gives a
pleasant account, " That he sees no reason but
that the gods, when in a grave and sober humour,
would inspire and assist the makers of laws, as
well as when they are in a merry pin ihey do
musicians and poets, which we suppose nobody
will deny him after this and his frankly owning

154 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

that thoughts are free, and every one may think
what pleases him best in these matters : as if he
had not yet said enough, he comes to the point,
and fairly defends lawgivers for cheating the
people. " It cannot be denied," says he, " but
that such men as Lycurgus, Numa, and others,
who were to deal with the seditious humours of
fanatic citizens, and the inconstant disposition of
the multitude, might lawfully establish their pre-
cepts with the pretence of divine authority, and
cheat them into such politics as tended to their
own happiness. For those law-givers that were
truly inspired, see the next question.

Quest. — Whether there is any such thing as
Revealed Religion?

Ans. — This will appear from the fact, that
there actually has been such revelation ; first, of
moral truths ; then of the very person of a Legis-
lator and Mediator, who confirmed those truths,
and clearly and unanswerably asserted future
punishments and rewards. We can do no more
than prove such things must have been, and have
been ; nor can we prove past fact by any other
argument than universal tradition, enquiry into
the probability of the fact, and veracity of the
evidence, and the further witness, either of ene-
mies or disinterested people, wise and capable of
judging; all which criterions of truth we find in
the two grand revelations. made to mankind ; that
of the Law from Sinai, and of the person of a

DIVINITY. 155

Teacher and Mediator in Jesus, of whom every
good and wise man, who has fairly examined his
doctrine and works, must say, as Plato did of
such a future instructor, " I will gladly own and
acknowledge him the Saviour of the world." For
the former of these revelations, the law given
from Sinai, for the sake of the rest of mankind,
and not the Jews only, if the fact were not true,
what makes the Jewish Nation so invincibly per-
sist in the profession of that law to this very day,
though scattered through the whole earth ? when
other Religions, that have pretended revelation,
not having so firm a basis at first, though spread
a thousand times farther, are now sunk and lost,
as the Grecian and Roman, there being scarcely
a man now left in the world who adores their
Mars, or Saturn, or Jupiter, or Juno. Nor was
this Law only pretended by Moses to be revealed
to him alone by God, as Numa deduced his from
his Egeria ; for God himself hath written it, and
spake in a voice from Heaven, which was heard
by six hundred thousand men, mixed with thun-
der and lightning, the whole mountain quaking
beneath it. Now, that the Jews had the know-
ledge of God among them has been witnessed by
heathen authors, and is further plain from hence,
that great men have travelled to their own coun-
try, on purpose to learn it. They have no other
learning, say some : it must be, then, this learning
which they went thither for, morality and know-

15^ THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

ledge of the truth of God, certainly the best and
noblest accomplishments in the world. " God
himself bears witness/' says Porphyry, " that the
Hebrews have found it." And Pythagoras went
among the Egyptians and Hebrews to get learn-
ing; and Hermippus tells us he was circumcised,
that he might be admitted into the learning of
the Jews. And Josephus gives us several in-
stances, in his Discourse against Appion, of the
respect and reverence which the ancient Philo-
sophers had for the learning and religion of the
Jews, as believing it divine. The truth of our
Saviours mission, doctrine, and miracles, is at-
tested by so many thousands, that we cannot
suppose him an impostor, without thinking dis-
respectfully of God himself, who has left us no
way of arguing stronger than from sense, and no
way of judging objects of sense but by sense con-
joined with reason. The wondrous works of our
Saviour are not denied by Julian, Porphyry, the
Jews, Mahomet, nor his greatest enemies. They
are particularly recorded by eye-witnesses, and
attested by a person of great sense and learning,
St. Paul, who had been his bitter enemy ; and
by St. James, and other Writers of the Apostolical
ages. The Author of this Religion proposed no
worldly honour to himself, but knew he was to
attest it by his blood, and foretold as much to
his followers. There appears nothing, through-
out his life and doctrine, but what speaks him a

DIVINITV. 157

wise and honest man, far from pride or vain-
glory. What, then, could he propose, had he
been an impostor ? How came he, a poor car-
penter, by such an excellent system of speculative
and moral truths, which certainly are not the
worse for being attested by miracle, unless he
had them from Heaven ? How came his Follow-
ers so stedfast in them, who knew they were to
have the same fate with their Master, for propa-
gating them ? and these not a few heated enthu-
siasts, but wise, and great, and good men ; nay,
in after-ages, Philosophers, and Senators, and
Princes; though at first, it is true, not many wise
or noble, for an obvious reason ; these con-
quered the world, not by fighting, but dying;
and exalted the trophies of the Mediator over all
the learning of Greece and power of Rome. And
the same divine virtue which has overthrown the
Neros, the Macatiuses, the Dioclesians, the Ju-
lians, the same that unraveled all the sophisms
of Celsus or Porphyr}^, of Tryphon and others —
there is not the least reason to fear its fallins:
before a few miserable modern pretenders, to
quibble rather than argument. Nor shall all the
secret mines of the treacherous Deist, or open
attacks of the would-be Atheist, ever prevail
against it.

Quest. — What is the meaning of St. Paul
being "a night and a day in the deep;" wliere

158 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

shall we find that he was thrice shipwrecked," as
he says of himself. 2 Cor. ii. 25 ?

Ans. — ^The meaning of his being a night and a
day in the deep is plain enough that on a shipwreck
he so long remained in the sea, on a board, raft, or
some such thing, before he was taken up or got to
land. For his being thrice shipwrecked, it seems
not a very sensible question ; where should we find
it? when we find it in the next text mentioned, and
why need it be twice recorded ; St. Luke not
taking particular notice of all the apostle's actions,
any more than he, or St. John, or the other two
Evangelists, of those of our Saviour ?

Quest. — I have had a few difficulties concern-
ing some opinions of the Jews that I have met
with, which seem to disagree with the Bible ; and
find there were these several sects amongst them
in the time of our Saviour — the Pharisees, Saddu-
cees, Esseans, Herodians, Samaritans, Hareans
and Zealots?

Ans, — The three most considerable of all the
sects that were amongst the Jews when Christ
was born were, the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Es-
seans. Perhaps the Pharisees might have their
name as explainers and interpreters of the Law,
which was a chief part of their work, and for
which they were in great estimation amongst the
Jews ; or rather from separation, the most natural
import of the word, as Epiphanius says, so called

DIVINITY. ' 159

because exempted from others in their extraordi-
nary pretences to piety ; the Jews describe a Pha-
risee, as one that separates himself from all un-
cleanness, unclean meats, and from the people of
the earth, who accurately observe not the differ-
ence of meats. Pharisee, in the Talmud, denotes
a pious and holy man. This sect was supposed
to arise not long after the Maccabees. Under the
pretence of Religion, however, they were mali-
cious, covetous, great oppressors, merciless deal-
ers, proud, scornful, and indeed guilty of most
immoralities ; they held the oral law of infinitely
greater moment than the written word ; that the
traditions of their forefathers wel-e above all things
to be embraced ; the strict observance of which
would entitle a man to eternal life ; that the souls
of men were immortal, and had their dooms
awarded in subterraneous regions ; that there is a
metempsychosis of pious souls out of one body
into another ; that things come to pass by fate,
and an inevitable necessity ; and yet that man's
will is free, that by this means men might be re-
warded, or punished according to their works.

The Sadducees were as opposite to the Phari-
sees in their temper, as they were in their prin-
ciples. Epiphanius thinks the Sadducees were so
called from justice, as pretending to be just and
righteous ; but this character agrees not with their
lives. They are generally thought to have had
the name from Sadock, the scholar of Antigonus

1^0

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Sochans, about the year 3720, 384 years before
Christ. They pass, by the writers of their own
nation, for impious men, of very loose manners ;
the natural consequence of their principles, for
they denied a future state, the reason of whicli
desperate opinion is supposed to arise from mis-
taking Antigonus, who pressed his scholars not to
be mercenary, but to serve God for himself, with-
out the expectation of reward. This Sadock and
Baithos, two of his disciples, misunderstood, and
thought he denied any further reward. The}'-
held no providence, but that God Almighty is so
absolutely placed above the world, that he neither
regarded the vice nor virtue acted in it. These opi-
nions made them hated by the people : they were
styled by them heretics, infidels, epicureans ; no
name being thought bad enough for them. They
absolutely rejected the traditions of the Pharisees,
and affirmed men were to keep the letter of the
Law. Josephus says, they were the fewest of
all sects, but generally of the best rank and qua-
lity ; therefore, unwilling to be disturbed in their
ease and luxury, they were the most severe against
tumults and seditions, for which they could not
be blamed, having all their expectation and happi-
ness in this life.

The Esseans began about the time of the Mac-
cabees, when the persecution of Antiochus forced
the Jews to the woods and mountains; and though
this storm blew over in a little time, yet those

DIVINITY. 1^1

men were so pleased with their retreat, that they
continued and combined into religious societies,
living a solitary and contemplative life. Their
numbers were usually about four hundred, ac-
cording to both Philo and Joseph us. Phny calls
them a solitary generation. They paid a reve-
rence to the temple by sending gifts and presents
thither ; but worshiped God at home, using
their own rites and ceremonies. Every seventh
day they met in their synagogue ; where, the
younger sitting at the feet of the elder, one read
some portions out of a book, which another, well
skilled in the principles of their sect, expounded
to the rest, instructing them in piety and virtue.
They industriously cultivated their ground, and
lived on the fruits of it ; had all in common, there
being neither rich nor poor among them. Their
manners were innocent, being exact observers of
justice, beyond the practice of other men. ft is
very probable the reason why we have no mention
made of them in the Gospels is, because, living
remote from others, they never concerned them-
selves with the actions of Christ or his Apostles ;
but, out of a pretended veneration for wisdom and
virtue, they neglected all care of the body, and re-
nounced matrimony, thinking it unbecoming men
of such a philosophical genius to spend any time
upon the necessities of the body. Their way they
called ^* worship," and their rules, " doctrines of
wisdom." Their contemplations were sublime and

THE ATHENUN ORACLE.

speculative, dealing mucli in the names and mys-
teries of Angels ; their carriage bore a great shew
of modesty and humility. Therefore it is not un-
Hkely they were the persons chiefly designed by
St. Paul, when he charges the Collossiatis, to let
no man beguile them of their reward in a volun-
tary humility and worshiping of Angels, in-
truding into those things which he has not seen,
vainly puffed up by his fleshy mind, that being
dead to the rudiments of the world, they should
no longer be subject to these Dogmata, or ordi-
nances, such as touch not, taste not, handle not;
the main principles of the Essean institution
being the commandmen ts and doctrines of men ;
which things have indeed a shew of wisdom, in
will-worship, and humility and neglecting of the
body, not in any honour to the satisfying the
flesh.

The Herodians were supposed either a part of
Herod's guard, or a party that espoused his inte-
rest ; they were particularly active in pressing
men to take tribute. In matters of opinon they
seemed to side with the Sadducees, for what St.
Matthew calls the Leaven of the Sadducees, St.
Mark calls the Leaven of Herod,

The Samaritans were the posterity of those that
succeeded the ten tribes, a mixture of Jews and
Gentiles ; they held nothing but the Pentateuch
to be the word of God ; that Mount Gerizim was
the true place of worship ; that they were the de-

DiviNmr. 1^3

scendanti of Joseph, and heirs of the Aaronical
Priesthood ; that no correspondence was to be had
with strangers, or any unclean thing touched.

The Karreans were a branch of the Saddu-
cees, but afterwards rejected their opinions. They
are the true Textuahsts, adhering only to the
writings of Moses and the Prophets, expounding
the Scripture by itself, disowning the absurd
glosses of the Talmud. There are to this day great
numbers of them at Constantinople and other
places.

The Zealots, so often mentioned by Josephus,
were an insolent and ungovernable sort of men ;
who, under a pretence of zeal for God, committed
the greatest outrages.

Quest. — By what means did the Pharisees be-
come so powerful amongst the Jews? and why
was our Saviour so displeased with them ? From
whence had the Jews their pretence for writing
the Talmud ? what was it chiefly composed on ?
who were the principal authors of it? and of
what repute was it amongst them ?

Ans. — Our Saviour was displeased with them
because of their hypocrisy, which evidently ap-
peared by what they taught, they being in the
chair of exposition about the time of our Saviour.
The priesthood were much degenerated ; and the
Pharisees, being more learned, took an opportu-
nity to advance themselves, and expound the Law,

M 2

l64

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

but made the observance of it to consist merely
in outward performances : besides which, they
corrupted and dishonoured the Law, by preferring
their oral and unwritten traditions to it, which
was their Law delivered by word of mouth, the
pedigree of which they thus deduce : They say
that, when Moses was in the mount forty days,
God gave him a double Law, one in writing, and
the other traditionary, containing the sense and
explication of the former; which, when come
down, he repeated first to Aaron, then to Ithamar
and Eleazer his sons, then to the seventy elders,
and lastly to the people ; the same persons all
this time being present. Then, Moses going out,
Aaron who had heard it four times, repeated it
to them agam ; and at Aaron's departure, his sons
did the like, and so the elders ; and at last the
people departed, and taught every man his neigh-
bour. Moses at his death delivered it again to
Joshua, he to the elders, they- to the prophets,
the prophets to the men of the great synagogue,
the last of whom was Simeon the just, who deli-
vered it to Antigonus Locheus, he to the wise
men his successors, whose business it was to re-
cite it ; and it was handed through several genera-
tions. At last it came to R. Jebuda, whom the
Jews stiled Holy Master, who committed it to
writing, calling his book Misnaith, or the Repeti-
tion ; this was afterwards explained by the Rab-
bins that dwelt at Babylon, with several cases and

DIVINITY. 1^5

and controversies concerning their Law, which re-
solutions some time after were collected into ano-
ther volume, and called Gemara, or Doctrine ; and
both together make the entire body of the Talmud,
the one being the text, the other the comment.
The Jews in all latter ages preferred this before
the Law, holding that of no use without this, it
being the explanation of it ; it being a little com-
mendation for a man toread the Bible; bat if he stu-
died the Mishna, he should receive eternal life by
it; that the Bible is like water, the Mishna like
wine, and the Talmud like spiced wine.

Quest. — What is the meaning of this passage in
the Proverbs, God hath made all things for him-
self, yea, even the wicked for the day of evil f"

Ans, — The design of it is to shew that God
has disposed all things in such a manner, as that
they shall answer one to another ; and that he has
so ordered his creation, that the wicked shall be
punished even by the course of nature.

Quest. — I would intreat you to resolve me
this question. Whether God brings judgments
upon the children for their parents' sins ; for
we read in the second commandment, that
the Lord is a jealous God, visiting the iniquity
of the fathers upon the children unto the third
and fourth generation and in Ezekiel, that the

166

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

*' fathers have eaten sour grapes^ and the chil-
dren's teeth are set on edge/'

Ans. — We have innumerable instances of the
temporal afflictions that children have met with
for their parents' crimes, which, without a reform-
ation in them, are often entailed on many gene-
rations. And sometimes the examples of parents
so far influence their children, that they become
partakers of the same guilt ; but, except they
themselves do evil, they may be assured they
shall not suffer after this life, since we are expressly
told, every man shall answer for his own sins."

Quest, — It has been my misfortune to fall into
the company of some young sparks, who puzzle
me about the eternity of the world. They are men
whom, though I am of a contrary opinion, yet, I
cannot well confute. I therefore desire your assist-
ance, how i may answer them ?

Ans, — As for the eternity of the world, you
perhaps may have met with this argument, that
there is no annihilation of things, but a conti-
nual revolution and change of one thing into ano-
ther. There is no dealing with these sparks by
Scripture, which tells us that God made the world."
You must therefore confute them, from their own
principles, thus: The world was not from eternity
in that state we now find it ; which I prove thus :
Either the day was from eternity, or the night
was from eternity, or both together were from

DIVINITY.

1^7

eternity ; if only the day, then the night was not;
if only the night, then the day was not ; but they
could not be both together, since they are suc-
cessive of one another by twelve hours ; and
if we should admit the contradiction that they
were both together, it would yet prove our po-
sition, which says, the world was not from
eternity in the state we now find it ; for now
there is both day and night. And after the same
manner we may prove that winter and summer
have not been from eternity ; and, consequently,
not that revolution and change of things as was at
first alleged. Again, as to the eternity of men
upon the face of the earth, we deny it, and say, if
there have been successive generations of men
from eternity, it follows that there has been an
innumerable company of men who have lived
already ; for, if their number was certain and de-
terminate, we should come to the first man, and
so to the second, third, fourth, and so to the last ;
and if we have a first and a last, then eternity
loses its definition, as a duration without beginning
or ending. But the number of men which have
hitherto lived is not infinite, therefore men are
not from eternity. There wants only the minor
to be proved thus : A number greater than an infi-
nite number cannot be given, but we can give a
number greater than the men which have yet
lived, namely, the hairs of these men's heads ;
therefore the number of men which have lived i*

16S

THE ATHExMAN ORACLE.

not infinite. Here the number of hairs contains
the number of men, and another greater number
over and above. Now, w^hatever is contained or
determined is finite, and what is finite is not in-
finite ; and, consequently, men have not been from
eternity. Besides, we having proved in the pre-
ceding argument that day and night have not
been from eternity ; it would be a hard task for
these gentlemen to p/ove in what other dimen-
sions of time those men lived in that were before
day and night. But, though there is little need
of it, we will give them another argument. Those
men that have yet lived have succeeded one ano-
ther either by a finite or infinite distance of time;
not by an infinite distance, as the succession of
families, to our knowledge, shews; therefore by a
finite distance; and infinity of duration cannot be
made of finite revolutions.

Quest. — Has Gunpowder or Printing done the
greatest mischief to the world ?

Ans. — Printincr has done both more service and
disservice to the world ; not only because Print-
ing was prior in acting, but also because its con-
sequences reach beyond the eflfects of gunpow-
der. As the cause is nobler than its eflfects.
Printing is more prejudicial than Gunpowder:
since Gunpowder would seldom be employed in
any great execution, if Printing did not first raise
such disputes and distractions as are the causes jof
wars and tumults.

DIVINITY. 1 6*9

Quest. — How may we convince the Heathen
that our God is the true God, and their gods false
ones ?

Ans, — There are so many learned pens that have
undertaken this subject, especially that of Hugo
Grotius, that, if it was another subject, it would
savour of presumption to add more ; but, because
no pen can be barren in this great truth, I will
add something, perhaps, not generally observed.
To obey, to die, or to be changed, is inconsistent
with the essence of a Deity; yet the sun, sea^ stars,
and all the thirty thousand gods that Hesiod
mentions^ have received their appointed orders in
nature, which have been altered, inverted, and
sometimes destroyed, by their Author — which we
may call God, Nature, or what we please — and
this is the God we acknowledge. Again, that an
ox, a cat, an onion, &c. which have been wor-
shiped for gods, could not appoint their own being
is certain from this reason, that they could not act
before they had a being; and it would be against
their nature to invert, alter, or destroy their own
nature — which confirms the preceding hypo-
thesis.

Quest. — How a man shall know himself?

Ans. — Know your Creator, and this is one of
tVie best ways to know yourself. Almost all know-
ledge is acquired by comparison. After his image
you are made ; see then, if you would know your-

170 THB ATHENIAN ORACLE.

self, whether you are degenerated or really like your
great original.

Know other men, see their faults and virtues ;
apply them, and you may thence easily judge of
your own.

Know your enemies, and if possible what they
think and say of you. This is a much surer way
than to consult your friends; you will hear much
more from the first than the last. These are the
best directions we can give.

Quest. — Whether Satires or Sermons have
been more successful towards reforming men's
manners ?

Ans, — Some Sermons are Satires, and some Sa-
tires are Sermons. We will not be so unchari-
table as to say both are much alike, because the
world is incorrigible, and mind neither; but, tak-
ing them as they are commonly distinguished, I
desire one instance of a man lampooned out of
vice, though we have some few of those who have
been preached out of it. At least, I dare be bold
to say, our English way of Satire will hardly ever
do it, since it is for the most part like our fighting,
downright and bloody ; and that generally pleases
most which calls most hard names, which may
enrage a man and make him look about for suit-
able returns. It will make him angry, but never
make him better.

DIVINITY. 171

Quest — How may we know the Scriptures to
be the word of God ?

Ans, — We have moral demonstration that they
are so, and that from these topicks. First, from
divine testimony, in those legible signatures and
impresses of Divinity instamped upon them. Some
directions for mankind are necessary, and those
such as shall remain standing rules. None can
compare with this, for antiquity, utility, gravity,
majesty. Nor is that strange effect these writ-
ings have in the minds of men in the perusing of
them, both Heathens and Christians, an argument
to be slighted. As for human testimony, we have
that which is to us satisfactory; namely, the con-
current tradition of all places and ages, which
have delivered down these books to us as the work
of inspired men ; and we may challenge all the
enemies of those Sacred books to produce^ in one
instance, a matter of fact attested on this manner
that is not true. If there have been some men
who have either denied or lessened the authority
of these books, or added others to them which
they would pretend of equal authority, even this
is a strong argument of the truth of those Sacred
Writings, since such accidents as these are clearly
prophesied of, and provided against, therein. But
we have, besides all this, the progress of the Gospel,
and the sufferings of the Martyrs, to witness the
same undeniable truth. For how should the doc-
trines contained in these books make such a pro-

172

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

gress though the world without force, nay, in
spite of it, and in contradiction to all the proud
affected learning of Greece and Rome ? and why
should the wisest, and best, and bravest of men,
many thousands of millions of them, endure the
severest torments for what was contained therein,
had there not been something extraordinary, and
confessing a divine power, which first dictated it,
which has still preserved it, and which will do so
to the end of the world.

Quest, — If the Scriptures be the word of God,
how is it that they are not more plain, so as to
prevent that variety of interpretation, which, in-
stead of promoting peace and love, involves us in
contention, enmity, and division ?

j4ns, — The variety of interpretations are no pre-
judice against it ; for, as the most exact rule in the
world will appear crooked if beheld through a
wrong medium, so it is here ; the fault is not in
the Scriptures, but in the vitiated judgments or
passions of men : for the diversity of opinions is
only accidental, as sin had never been in the
world had not God made men. Do we question
Acts of Parliament to be really the King's and
Kingdom's word, because their meaning is some-
times disputed ? It will be urged, God could have
made them otherwise; it may be true, but then he
must have made man otherwise, and so made him
not a man, which he had not been if not free and

DIVINITY. 173

rational, and while so he can neither be com-
pelled in his faith nor actions. And, being thus
free, it is impossible any proposition can be formed
which is not in his power, verbally at least, to
deny, and do this so long till at last he may really
doubt of it, though never so self-evident, much
more in what is only revealed. He may, he does,
abuse God's name every day, and it is no wonder
if he does as much by his word. We find those
who, at least in word?, deny his very essence ;
and we may as well argue there is no God, no Re-
ligion, natural or revealed, because all these are
abused, and made the occasions, or at least pre-
tences, of confusion and discord, as that the Holy
Scriptures are not God's word. For the same reason
we must look into the natural and direct tendency
of these Sacred Writings, and what they would
certainly produce if their directions were practised,
which it is our faults if they are not, if we would
form a right judgment of them, and discern whe-
ther they are of God. Now nothing can be plainer,
than that they every where inculcate peace, and
love, and unity; and particularly in the New Tes-
tament. And what can bear more leojible marks
of Divinity, than such writings as, if they were
followed, would make man so like God, and earth
like heaven ? And if they have not these effects,
we may blame ourselves. Whatever is funda-
mental or necessary to salvation is plainly taught
in the Scriptures ; and if, instead of believing and

174 THE ATHENIAN ORACI-E.

practising them, we will eternally quarrel about
some little shibboleths, which sometimes we find,
but oftener make in them, let us not find fault
with them, but amend ourselves according to
those excellent rules which are there given us.

Quest, — Our Saviour says, for every idle word
we shall give an account of in the day of judg-
ment." Pray, the meaning of it ?

Ans, — The meaning of the term " idle word,"
cannot be, as some weak persons have mistaken
it, every word which tends not to some spiritual
edification ; but every wicked blasphemous word,
as the context shews; our Saviour having been
discoursing of the Pharisees blaspheming him and
saying, " he cast out demons by Belzebub.*"

Quest, — What is the true meaning of the word
Superstition ?

Ans, — Supra, or super statutum in Civil Law ;
it comes from beyond or above the Statute. In
Divinity it means a necessary observance of those
indifferent things which God had neither com-
manded nor forbidden ; as, for instance, it is su-
perstition to believe the wearing of a surplice in
religious worship a sin, because God has not for-
bidden it ; and it is superstition to believe the^not
wearing it a sin, because God has not commanded
it, And so in meats, times, &c.

DIVINITY. 175

Quest, — I request that you would reconcile the
seeming contradictions in the Four Evangelists
about the Suffering of our Saviour ?

Ans. — They all four agree in the principal
circumstances of this history, except one, wherein
St. Mark and St. John seem differently to relate
the time of his Crucifixion. They unanimously
say, that darkness covered the whole earth from
the sixth hour until the ninth hour, during which
time the Saviour of the world was nailed to the
cross. But St. John says, it was about the sixth
hour that Pilate was still sitting upon his tribunal,
and said, after having scourged Jesus with rods.

Behold your King," John xix. I4 ; and St.
Mark xv. 25, " Now it was the third hour, and
they crucified him." We might here make some
remarks upon the original and invention of hours,
of their division into four quarters of three hours
each, into double hours, six of which made a
day; upon the four watches of the night, and the
common division of the day into morning, noon,
and evening ; and of the manner of beginning the
day, and correcting the hour samong the Jews —
but that the digression would be too tedious for
this place, and therefore we should omit it, and
endeavour to reconcile them in as brief terms as
we can. The Jews assembled early in the morn-
ing to consult how they might destroy Jesus,
and resolved in this assembly to accuse him be-
fore the Governor. And this accusation was

17^ THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

made at the third hour, or at the ninth in the
morning, which is a circumstance that none of
the Evangelists but St. Mark has precisely ob-
served. So that these words, " now it was the
third hour," ought to be considered as a paren-
thesis, which relates to what preceded ; as if the
Sacred Historian, after having related their accu-
sations asfainst our Saviour, and the sentence that
Pilate pronounced upon him before he passed to
the Crucifixion, which was the consequence of it,
designed to speak of the time in which Jesus was
brought before the Governor. It is by a like me-
thod that the same Evangelist concludes the Cru-
cifixion, ver. 33 : " Now, the sixth hour being
come, there was darkness over the whole land un-
til the ninth hour." As this expression did not
signify that the Crucifixion, and all the circum-
stances of it which St. Mark had related, were
passed before the sixth hour; but, on the contrary,
that they began at that time : so these words,
" now it was the third hour," that our Evangelist
speaks, after having given the history of the
Jewish process against Jesus, signifies that he en-
tered at the ninth hour in the morning — and
it was about the ninth hour that the Romans used
to give audience. And in respect to St. John's
manner of speaking, that it was about the sixth
hour when Pilate said to the Jews, Behold your
King," we think no one can make any difficulty
of it, since every one knows that, in our vulgar

DIVINITY. 1 77

language we say it is about noon, although it be
but a little past eleven, or near one, and in the
space of ntar two hours many things miglit pass.

Quest. — Whether it be a sin to deceive the
deceiver ?

Ans. — Yes ; for although circumstances may
make an action more or less sinful, yet they
change not the nature of sin, for deceit is deceit,
though used to a deceiver. The command is po-
sitive : " Let no man defraud or circumvent his
brother,'* &c. There is no limitation or exception
made, unless he be a deceiver.

Quest. — What was the mark God set upon
Cain ?

jlns. — The Rabbins say, that his flesh was
crusted, and made invulnerable; and that Lamech,
when he killed him, wounded hinj in the eye. I
know a gentleman whose misfortune it was to kill
his friend in a duel — and honourably, according to
that notion the world now has of honour ; and
though upon his trial he came off with his life,
yet the action made such impression upon his
spirits that he (?arries a visible mark of horror and
disturbance in his countenance to this day; and
such an one that causes many thinking persons
that are strangers to him to take a particular no-
tice of him when they meet him. One, among
the rest, meeting hi;n in my company ; psilled m<?

I7S THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

bv the arm to take notice of him ; and when he
was passed by, told me, that gentleman has the
character of Cain legibly written in his face." I
told my friend, he had unfortunately killed a
man." My friend replied, " he did not know it
before I told him." I am persuaded that this
was Cain's mark.

Quest. — Why one hour s sermon seems longer
than two hour s conversation r

Ans. — For several unlucky reasons. Some-
times because the sermon may be duller than the
conversation ; at others, because the hearer is dull
himself, and has not the wit to like it. Sometimes
because those in the pulpit talk all, and talk
sense ; when in conversation, those who love it
may hear their own dear selves talk as much and
as impertinently as they please ; and, besides, have
the liberty of contradiction, the very life and soul
of some people. But the most general reason for
this sad truth is, the almost universal decay of
piety, added to the adverseness which the best
men find in their minds towards acts of devotion,
till conquered by industry and pains. Where
men are truly pious and religious, -they think no
entertainment in the world comparable to that
wherein they may be taught the way of happi-
ness; nor will they easily be tired with what
affords them at the same time so much of profit
and pleasure.

DIVINITY. 179

Quest. — Why does our Saviour use that odd
similitude of a camel's going through the eye of a
needle ? and what is the genuine meaning of that
text ?

^ns. — The proverbs of all nations are said to
contain the greatest part of their experience and
wisdom ; and this similitude, most Commentator*^
agree, is founded on a proverb of the Jews. Some
say, it alludes to a very strait low gate in Jeru-
salem, called The Needle-gate, through which the
camels could never pass without first unloading
their burdens ; which, if true, were a beautiful
and apposite simile. But we doubt this is rather
a witty than a true interpretation. The learned
and indefatigable Bochart has another interpreta-
tion. He tells us, in his dissertation concerning
the Camel, that the word gamal," which signi-
fies a camel, is also interpreted a cable ; and says
it is a common proverb among the Eastern na-
tions when they speak of an impossibility — that
it is easier for a cable to be threaded through the
eye of a needle, which is a very proper and apt
simile ; and this of the two I esteem the more
natural interpretation, leaving the Reader to em-
brace which he pleases.

Q7/e^^. —Whether Virtue and Goodness, or
Prudence, be any defence against misfortune ?
or whether virtuous and good men are not equally
liable to misery and distress as the worst of men ?

l80

THE ATllESlAN ORACLE.

What is the meaning of that common proverb^
" God never sends mouths, but he sends meat ?*'
and how does he provide for men in misery and
distress ? how does he feed the hungry, clothe the
naked, and take care of virtuous and good men r

Ans, — That Virtue and Goodness, generally
speaking, are a defence, though Prudence must
be used : — That God does take care of the good,
and defend and provide for them, otherwise there
could be no providence, and then no God : — That
virtuous men are for these reasons less hable to
misfortunes than the wicked ; — nay, that God by
his common providence makes provision for all
his creatures. — If fact be brought against this,
we have this to say upon it — that oftentimes those
are not good men, but hypocrites, who are mise-
rable; that, if generally good, they may yet in some
things be faulty, and for that be for a time pu-
nished to make them better ; that, if they neglect
prudent means to obtain or preserve a share in the
necessaries of life, or imprudently and unnecessa-
riljr draw a greater charge on themselves than
they can maintain, they must blame themselves,
not Providence; that, in some instances of com-
mon calamities, the good can no more expect to
be always preserved, than from sickness, pain, or
the other natural inconveniences of life; that, not-
withstanding all this, a fervent devotion, and ge-
nerous trust on God's mercies, promises, and pro-
vidences, are not in vain, but they often deliver

DIVINITY. l8l

out of misery and distress ; and none know that
they shall not while there is life, for so long there
is hope ; and when once the happy turn comes,
the former uneasy circumstances render the pre-
sent much more pleasure and welcome ; that, if all ,
fails, there is another world, which, if those who
are afflicted in this do not believe, nay, are not
wiUing to wait for, they are not patient, they are
not good, they have no share in this particular
providence of God, they themselves vindicate his
justice, and destroy their own argument.

Quest. — Whether Peter, or Paul, or any of the
Apostles, used notes in their preaching?

Ans, — No; nor Bibles neither to put their
notes in. They had not so much as texts, as we
see by most if not all their Sermons recorded in
the Scripture. They had no pulpits, nor several
other things that are in use among us. But what
consequence can be drawn from all this — these
being only such circumstances as enter not at all
into the nature of the thing? Such notes as we
have, they could not probably have; our way of
writing not being then, at least not so commonly,
in fashion ; for Zachary, when he would express
his mind, asked not for pen, ink, and paper, but
for a writing-table, though, it is true, the other
way too was sometimes used. But, as the Apos-
tles used no notes, so neither did they study their
Sermons beforehand, nor need they to do it, the

l83

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

giftof preaching beingone of those miraculous gifts
at that time bestowed upon the Church of God.
As for notes or no notes, it may not be unenter-
taining to discourse a little farther, though be-
yond the question, in reference to the present
custom of the nation. It is known that our Mi-
nisters began to write their Sermons first about the
time of the Reformation, when their enemies ac-
cused them for preaching seditiously ; for which
reason they penned down all that they spoke, to
produce their notes if there should be occasion.
And finding this to be an advantage, as to the
closeness of their discourses, and more correct
expression, they have ever since continued it, and
that to so good purpose, that the English Sermons
are now the best in the world. But there are dif-
ferent ways of using notes in preaching. To have
them in the pulpit for an assistance to the me-
mory, which he that comes without must be a
bold man ; or to use them entirely, without
at all trusting to the memory, and here we ac-
knowledge a Sermon generally appears with much
more life when the preacher s eye is not chained
to the book ; and the custom of thus preaching
making the thing in time much more easy than at
first it appears. But then, on the contrary, to
get all by heart is a great slavery, and takes up
so much time from other studies, that we question
whether it will be always worth the while to do
it. Upon the whole, though the common people

DIVINITY. 183

would never think St. Paul preached a good Ser-
mon, unless, as some of them call it, he read it
every word without a book ; yet all those who are
worth pleasing had rather hear a piece of good
sense and close discourse read to them out of the
pulpit than a mass of rambling nonsense with-
out book ever so volubly tumbled over.

Quest. — How far is a Sabbath-day's Journey,
which we often find mentioned in the Scriptures?

Ans. — About seven of the Hebrew furlongs,
much the same with the old Roman mile, con-
taining a thousand of the Hebrew greater feet,
two thousand of their lesser.

Quest. — When were public places of worship
first built, and who was the founder of them ?

Ans. — Lactantius and many others believe it
was a little after the building of Babel, and that
Ninus was the first who about that time set up
statues in memory of Jupiter and Juno, and Be-
lus his father, which statues were set up over their
sepulchres, and divine honours offered them, and,
in process of time, inclosed within stately build-
ings, which were called their temples, and built
within consecrated groves. Such were the tem-
ples of Vulcan in Sicily, Cybele in the grove of
Ida, Jupiter in the grove of Dodona, and of
Apollo in the grove of Daphne. These dark
groves struck a terror in the worshippers; and,

l84

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

because they had continual hghts burning in
them, they were called hici a lucendo, after
which they became places of refuge, which use
some beheve was first invented by the children of
Hercules, to secure themselves from those their
father had oppressed.

Quest. — What condition is the most eligible
for assisting us to be wise and virtuous ?

Am, — A poor man, being loaded with misery,
thinks of nothing but how to live ; and so far is
poverty from being a help to virtue, that it fre-
quently makes men despise laws, and, through
their misery, abandon themselves to rage and de-
spair; and, in hopes of some redress, they become
mutinous, seditious, and guilty of thefts, mur-
ders, and all manner of outrages, having nothing
to lose but their unhappy lives, by venturing of
which they expect to gain some little change in
their fortunes and quiet. And as for the rich
man, our Saviour tells us, " it is easier for a camel,
or cable-rope, to go through the eye of a needle
than for such an one to enter into the kingdom of
Heaven the fullness of his condition affording
him so many diversions from his duty^ that it is
almost impossible for him to find the path of vir-
tue ; and, therefore, we often see riches attended
with vanity, luxury, and effeminacy, all which are
enemies to science. So that the middle condition,
where there is a sufficient fortune to allow the ne-

DIVINITY.

185

cessary means for knowledge, and to encourage a
virtuous life, being free from those inconveniences
and temptations which riches and poverty abound
with, is the most to be desired, and Hkeliest, as we
generally see, to produce these happy effects.

Quest, — Whether a Dissenter is a Schismatic,
notwithstanding his liberty by law ?

Am. — A Christian becomes not more or less
Christian by being a National one, as to the es-
sence of Reliorion : but if a National Church
agrees in doctrine with the doctrine of Christ, and
Dissenters ag^ree in doctrine with the National
Church, neither of them are Schismatics from the
doctrine or Church of Christ; and it was the doc-
trinal part of Religion which Christ promised to
be withal, so that the gates of Hell should not
prevail against it. But, if a National Church
makes the terms of her communion political,
another Church, dependent on her, may dissent
from such political terms, if the Magistrate gives
the libertv, without Schism.

Quest. — In Ephes. iv. '26, we are exhorted "to
be angry, and sin not now when can a man be
said to be angry, without sin ?

Ans, — When the cause of his anger is lawful
and reasonable, and when it does not transport
him so far as to make him forget his being a ra-
tional creature and a Christian. The truth is,

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

there are but very few cases wherein a person can
well be angry at all ; but he may be allowed most
warmth, when either he does himself, or sees others
do, any thing that tends to the dishonour of God
and Religion.

Quest, — Why our blessed Saviour loved St.
John best, when St. Peter loved the Saviour

most ?

Ans, — St. John appears to have had more ra-
tional love of our Saviour than St. Peter, whose
zeal for him seems to have been chiefly grounded
on the mistaken notion of his countrymen, that
he was to be a Temporal Messiah, to conquer
kingdoms, and make his Apostles Viceroys all
over the world. Besides, St. John was related to
our Saviour, and of more agreeable temper than
St. Peter, who was warm and hasty, though well-
meaning and honest.

Quest, — It is known that all Nations have
believed something of God : but how far may a
general agreement be said to be a proof of that
important doctrine ?

Ans, — ^This testimony is of very great force,
whether it be considered in itself, or in respect of
its origin. Lactantius thought it so good a proof,
that, having cited a great many both Heathen
and Christian Authors against the Atheists, he
urges the consent of all people and nations, many

DIVINITY. 187

of which, although they differed almost in every
thing else, yet generally agreed in the belief of a Di-
vinity. By an ancient Philosopher, probable things
have been ranked in this order: — That whatever
seems true to some learned persons is in some
sort probable ; what appears so to the generality
of some learned men is more probable ; but that
in which all men agree is in the highest degree
of probability, and approaches very near to those
truths which may be demonstrated ; so that he
might very justly pass for an extravagant person,
who should have the boldness to deny it. There
is no man in the world, who, by his single
judgment can balance the constant authority of
all mankind. If any person should, through a
contradictious spirit, or by any other motive,
affirm that snow is black, that motion is impos-
sible, or that two contradictory propositions may
be true in the same time ; there would be no other
way to refute him, but to oppose to him the uni-
versal consent of all men ; and if he refused to
agree to it, he ought to be looked upon either
with pity or contempt. He had need have very
powerful and clear reasons, who should resist the
common opinion of all men, and equally accuse
them of error. Several Heathen Philosophers
have looked upon this common agreement as a
considerable argument. " The consent of all men,'*
says Seneca, is of very great weight to us : a
mark that a thing is true, is when it appears so

188

THE ATHENIAN ORAf LK.

to all the world ; thus, we conclude there is a
Divinity, because all men believe it ; there being
no nation, how corrupt soever they be, which
deny it/* Cicero has said the same thing in se-
veral places, and has observed, that, although
many Nations have had extravagant opinions of
the Divinity, yet they all agreed in the belief
that there is an eternal power, on whom we
depend." — " In the hottest disputes," says Maxi-
mus of Tyre, " in the deepest contest, and in
the diversity of opinions which are amongst men,
we see a doctrine established throughout the

CD

earth, which is, that there is a God, who is king
and father of all men. It is what is confessed by
all the world, both learned and ignorant." There
are many such instances, where the general con-
sent has been thought a good argument for the
being of a God. It is true, there has been a few
men who have contradicted the universal consent ;
but these may be considered as monsters. If we
consider the origin of this universal opinion, we
shall still better perceive its force; for it can
only have taken its rise from one of these four
things. First, either it must be united to the
understanding, like to the most evident prin-
ciples of the sciences, and the inclination we have
to be happy ; or else that we have a natural dis-
position to embrace this opinion as soon as it is
proposed to us, as our eyes are naturally disposed
to perceive the light when it appears ; or some

DiVtNITY. 189

powerful reason, which presents itself to the
mind of all men, even of the most ignorant.
Or, lastly, fronj ancient tradition, which came
from one and the same source, which has dis-
persed this opinion throuoh all the earth. We
cannot imagine any other way whereby this opi-
nion should he introduced amongst all men, who
are so much inclined to think diversely of one
and the same thing; and whichsoever of them
we choose, the argument is equally strong and
conclusive. If it is from the light of nature, it is as
extravagant to deny it, as it would be to say that
the most evident principles of the sciences are
false. If it is said, that it is by a natural dispo-
sition that men believe there is a God, why
should we resist an inclination of nature, since its
motions never deceive us ? Or, if it is agreed
that there is a powerful reason which persuades
all men of it, we must renounce common sense if
we refuse to assent to it. But if it is said that
man received this knowledge from an ancient
tradition, which indeed appears most probable, it
must be enquired from whence this tradition
came, and who was the common master of all
mankind. We very well know the names of
those who have introduced any sect, or engaged
people in certain opinions ; but we find neither
the name of him who is pretended to have in-
vented this doctrine, nor the place nor time in
which he has lived, nor the manner whereby ft

100 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

was introduced and dispersed amongst men.
It is this which makes us believe that the authora
of this tradition are our first parents ; who, as
they could not be ignorant of their origin, so
undoubtedly they taught this truth to their chil-
dren. It is natural to conceive that it was by
this means all men had learned it. This thought
leads us to another, which is of very great im-
portance in this matter : it is, that all men have
descended from one man only, or at least from a
small number of persons who were all together;
from whence it will appear, that man had a
beginning, and that we cannot reject the doctrine
of the existence of a God as a political fiction ;
for, supposing man to have a beginning upon
earth, from whence could he originate but from
such a Divinity as we conceive of? What other
being could have formed such admirable bodies
as ours, and united such intelligences to them as
our souls ? Let those who deny this tell us also
who taught the first men there was a God ; and
how it came into their mind, that they drew
their existence from Him, if He who made them
had not discovered to them, after a sensible
manner, that it was to Him they owed their
being ? And since it is what they taught to their
posterity, we have no reason to refuse our belief,
nor can we imagine any witnesses worthy of faith,
nor men who can give us a better account of
their origin than themselves: therefore we cannot

DIVINITY. 191

reasonably reject a tradition which came from
them.

Quest, — Considering we live in an age when
men's opinions as to matters of faith are various,
how shall we behave in respect to those who
differ from us, as not only to avoid error, but
also to prevent ourselves from rashly censuring
and condemning those who embrace not the same
opinion as we do ?

/Ins. — We ought to keep to the plain text of
Scripture, and affirm nothing as necessary to sal-
vation which is not clearly revealed in it, with-
out permitting ourselves to draw far-fetched or
too subtle consequences from thence, or engage
ourselves in metaphysical arguments about things
which are above our reach. And this method might
make us more charitable too, and less censorious
of others ; because the many controversies which
divide us are commonly upon such things as the
Scripture has not clearly decided in favour of
either party ; the errors we ascribe to one ano-
ther often respecting the manner of things,
which in many cases Holy Writ has not de-
termined.

Quest. — Though I am satisfied the Christian
Religion does directly tend to the happiness of
mankind both here and hereafter, yet I desire
your answer to this question — Whether, since it

igt THE ATHENIAN ORACl.E.

has gained the civil power, it has been the occa-
sion of more good or harm ?

Ans. — The Christian ReHgion can never be
said to have been the necessary and proper cause
of any evil, or to have given any just occasion for
it — not but that occasion may have been taken,
where none has been really given. At least this
is certain, that what is good can have no real or
necessary effect on the productions of evil ; though
evil may accidentally cleave to its productions, as
sin came first into the world ; and, as our Saviour
says, he came not to send peace, but a sword.
It is we, then, who are called Christians, that
have been the real causes of those evils which
have disturbed the world since Christianity came
into it; for to think that itself has been the just
occasion of them, is as false in morals, as the old
Heathen calumny was against them in natural
evils, when they used to charge the Christians as
the causes of droughts and earthquakes, and all
public calamities. What mischief has been, is
owing to the want of Christianity, not to the
profession of it. And those who make this ob-
jection ought to consider the consequence of it ;
for, if the Christian Religion has been an evil to
the world since it has been supported by the
civil authority, it is plain that it must be owing
to the authority, not to the Religion, unless we
suppose a good thing can change its nature, and

DIVINITY. 193

grow mischievous, merely because lawful autho-
rity does establish and defend it.

But we are inclined to believe there has been
few^r mischiefs in the world since Christianity
came to be established than there were before, as
bad as we are, and so much degenerated from the
primitive Christians, though Christianity is still
the same. Many bad customs and usages have
been broken by Christian Emperors — ^as the bloody
sports of the theatres and gladiators ; the public
allowance of the stews, and shameful tribute for
them ; but, besides the abrogation of these and
other bad customs, many excellent and whole-
some laws have been made by Christian Em-
perors, and even a body of such laws collected
by one of them, as were useful to the common-
wealth, which are, as it were, the standard of
equity through a great part of the world. If it
be objected that Christianity has been the occa-
sion of much war and bloodshed, it is easily and
justly answered, in the words of St. James, that
" these things had quite another origin. Is it
not from those lusts which war in your mem-
bers?" the lust of empire, of glory, interest,
or the like, generally being the cause, whatever
is pretended.

Still there is nothing in the Christian Religion
that in the least warrants or encourages any ill
practices, but quite the contrary ; being undoubt-
edly the best institution in the world ; and by

o

IQ4 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

how much any communion deviates from charity
and mercy, by so much the farther are they
removed from true Christianity, and nearer the
Rehgion of the Heathens, which was really bloody
and barbarous, whose very sacrifices and highest
mysteries were lewdness and murder.

Quest. — I have long indulged myself in a rest-
less habit, which I now find contradictory to my
reason, and would leave it. I will not be parti-
cular, because the answer may be of use to others,
who are not without the allurement of some dar-
ling sin. Query, what is a habit, whether to
be overcome, and by what methods ?

A71S, — Habit, or an inclination to a given action,
generated by frequent repetition of either vice or
virtue, is caused by a repetition of vicious or vir-
tuous acts. There was a time before the first of
these acts which constitute the habit began.
Now, when the first temptation was oflfered, it
was either in our power to withstand it, or not.
If out of our power, then we are forced, by a
necessity of sinning, from God, or else by our
own irresistible weakness. Not the first, because
God cannot be the author of sin ; nor the last,
because as yet we were not weakened by the
habit of it; so that it follows, the first act was
in our power. This proved, I shall further pre-
mise, that the general is of the same nature with
all the particulars of which it is constituted, or it
could be no general made up of those particulars*

DIVINITY.

As, for instance, a habit of supposing twenty
repetitions, the last is constituted of the nature
and guilt of the preceding nineteen ; and itself,
and so downward, till you come to the first,
which, as is proved, was once in your power to
have withstood it ; and if the first, the second
must also be in your power, because it is part of
the first, only something less, and weakened by
guilt, yet not destroyed, nor can ever be abso-
lutely destroyed. Any person, let his habit in
vice be ever so strong, if he is not given over to
a judicially reprobate mind, may, by the assist-
ance of Heaven, reclaim and undo all his wicked
customs in vice. It holds also in virtue, wherein
a habit is stronger in the last act than the pre-
ceding one, but yet of the same nature, and so
downward to the first, where we shall find our
own power, for so we may call what is given us,
eflfectually co-operating with the grace of God ;
which we may resist, for we are not forced into
good actions any more than vicious ones, for that
would destroy rewards and punishments : from
whence it also follows, that a habit of virtue may
be lost, and the grace of God extinguished in us,
which is plainly supposed in Ezekiel, xviii. 2 ;
2 Pet. ii. 20, 2 1 , 22, and several other texts. There
are only two texts from the Scriptures that are
brought to prove the impossibility of leaving off
habits of vice and virtue. The first is, Can the
leopard change its spots, and the Ethiopian his

O 2

IQG the ATHENIAN ORACLE.

skin? then may ye also do good that are accus-
tomed to do evil and the other is, " He that is
born of God sinneth not, for his seed remaineth
in him ; and he cannot sin, because he is born of
God." Both whicli places only shew that it is
a very unusual, dilhcult matter, to do it. The
first of these texts ought not to render us des-
perate, nor the last secure; for they express no
more than that generally it is so, but not always,
as other testimonies of Sacred Writ, and the fre-
quent instances we meet do evince the contrary.

Having shown what habit is, and that it may
be broken, it only remains to lay down the me-
thod how. A habit always has its contrary, and
may be broken by the use of those methods which
contribute its contrary, or by removing the occa-
sions by which it is increased and continued. As,
for instance, a fire is extinguished by water, or
by not applying fuel to feed it. Ambition, re-
venge, passion, and all other eflfects of pride, are
the best overcome by practising acts of self-
resignation, and subjection to Divine Providence.
One of the ancient Philosophers used himself to
beg alms of statues ; and being asked the reason,
said he, I am learning patience by denial."
A seeking of all opportunities of being denied,
disappointed, abused, and affronted, and at the
same time resolving to hear it, quickly alters the
man, and roots out the above-mentioned effects
of pride. It is a method God approves, and

DIVINITY. 1P7

often makes use of, when he reclaims such peo-
ple by sickness, afflictions, &c. Again, is the
habit drunkenness, gluttony, idleness, or un-
cleanness ? the cure is, by practising teniperance
and chastity. But in these and such-like cases,
where the flesh is concerned, our Divines have
well inculcated, that it is safer to flee than fight;
not once to hear reasons of either side upon any
suggestion, but to drive it out of your mind by
going about some business, or entering into some
good company ; and, when the temptation is oflT,
to fortify yourself by reason, prayer, and reso-
lution not to comply. Examples are of great
use; read Augustine*s Confessions. And so it is
possible, in all habits, to get the mastery. What
is more tyrannical than the passion of love ? and
yet how easily overcome, by avoiding the occa-
sions that excite it, as converse with the object,
or by representing the ingratitude, weakness, &c.
of the party beloved ! In short, get but a true in-
formed j udgment, the art of knowing things as they
really are in their own nature, and the business is
almost done. To be master of one's self and ha-
bits, it is indispensably necessary that our
thoughts be good and regular, which is eflfected
by good converse either with books or persons.
Hence we may know ourselves, and adapt par-
ticular remedies to our weaknesses, for there is
nothing impossible that is necessary to the accom-
plishment of our happiness.

1.

198 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Quest, — Whether the soul is eternal, or pre-
existent from the Creation, or contemporary with
its embryo ?

j4ns. — Souls are not eternal, for then they
would be gods, and not created beings, creation
supposing a commencement of time. Nor is the
creation of souls contemporary with any of the six
days labours ; because it is as impossible they should
be idle, being pure acts, as it is impossible for
the fire not to burn. But no person could ever
yet produce one instance of their pre-existent
acting ; nor will the maintainers of pre-existence
find any service in that text : " And in the
sixth day God ended his work, which he had
made;" for though it be literally true quoad
Deum, to whom time past, present, and to
come, is the same, yet it is not so qiwd homi-
nem, for we see daily many immediate instances
of the Almighty's works, which have not been
left to the established order of nature and second
causes. Besides, it is observable, that though
Adam was the last of the creation, yet his soul
was made after his body, as may be gathered
from the order of the words ; namely, " And the
Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground,
and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life,
and he became a living soul." Hence we conclude,
that the soul is only contemporary with its embryo,
since there can be no demonstration made of its
actings prior to what are apparent in that organ.

DIVINITV.

Quest, — What is the soul of man, and whether
eternal ?

Ans, — It is a known story of the Philosopher,
who, being asked what God was, took at first a
day to answer it ; and when that was elapsed,
demanded still more time for the resolution ; till
at length he was compelled to acknowledge it was
an unfathomable depth, wherein he might soon lose
himself, but never find a bottom. The excellent
Epictetus thus accosted his friend : Thy reason
makes thee a-kin to God ; see that thou do nothing
unworthy so great a Relation." If, then, the soul
be like God, it must be difficult to find that out
to perfection, though something may be known
of it, as well as its Maker. An exact definition
cannot be given. Some tolerable description,
then, will be as far as we shall pretend to advance ;
but therein hope to give more distinct notion of
the thing than is usually given, asserting nothing
but what is or shall be made intelligible, and
that from such principles as are either agreed
upon by all sects in Philosophy, or have the un-
doubted suflFrage of experience or common reason,
and which we hope will be able to solve most of
the objections — requiring thus much justice of
the Reader, not to condemn any thing before he
has thoroughly considered it ; and then, readily
granting him the philosophical liberty of making
what objections he pleases.

200

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Our notion, then, of the soul of man is, that
it is an immaterial substance, made after the
image of God, which, together with a rightly
organized body, constitutes a man ; the explana-
tion whereof \yill, we hope, give a tolerable reso-
lution of this grand question.

The soul is a substance, which we prove by the
definition of a substance ; a thing subsisting by
itself, and subject to accidents. That the soul
subsists by itself will be granted, if we can prove
that it is not in any thing as an accident ; that is,
so as to be absent without the injury or destruc-
tion of the subject. That it is subject to acci-
dents is plain, and that too as a last subject.
Learning and many other things are accidents;
yet we see some learned, others unlearned.

It must be a substance, because it is not acci-
dent ; and one of the two it must be, if it be any
thing : and that there is some principle of action
within us, none deny. This is proved both from
the general notion of an accident, hinted at
before, which denies it to be a last subject, as the
soul is ; and more clearly, by removing all those
accidents which are pretended to constitute what
we call the soul of man : among which, it will be
sufficient if we prove it is no quality or tempera-
ment of the body, arising from different qualities
and humours. A made quality cannot act; though
v.'hen in a requisite subject it may in some sense
enable it to act^ But this principle within us

DIVINITY.

201

does itself act both upon the body and ideas
which it has formed, either with or without its
aid ; and if one quality cannot act, no more can
several, or I know not what results from all to-
gether. Further, were this principle of action
within us, which we call the soul, nothing but
such a sort of crasis of the body, consisting of
or resulting from its different humours, this soul
must necessarily decay, as this temperament is
injured or weakened by diseases, or approaching
death. But nothing^ is more common than to
see persons just going out of the world, when the
body is in sufficient disorder, yet enjoying their
reason in as high a degree as ever, and frequently
more intensely than when in perfect health, which
not only proves this principle of action within,
whatever it is, something far nobler than a fleet-
ing kind of I know not what quality or qualities,
but leads us fairly to the tirst and remote differ-
ence of the soul, its immateriality.

We come then to the second branch of our de-
finition, to prove the soul an immaterial substance.
And this we shall do ;

By removing any supposed absurdity or contra-
diction in those terms. The common idiom of
our language, and the vulgar discourse, generally
use the word Substance in the grosser sense, for
something they can feel, and which for that rea-
son, they generally call Substantial ; making the
very dullest of their senses, the sole judge of what

202

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

is SO very nice, that even it often eludes our senses,
and perhaps in some cases our very reason. Nor
do the people, for this very cause, ever dream
that the air is a substance, making that and ghost,
terms convertible, though we are as sure it is so
as that the earth itself is.

That the soul is such a substance we have already
proved; that it may, without any absurdity, be an
immaterial substance, we have endeavoured to
shew. That it is such a substance, we shall thus
proceed to evince.

The essences of things are known by their pro-
perties and operations. Whatever then acts above
the power of matter cannot be matter ; is some-
thing above matter; is immaterial. This the soul
of man does ; therefore it deserves that title.

The grand question, it mtist be confessed, is
still : How far the power of matter reaches ? or,
if that be not a proper term, How far matter may
be modified by a superior agent, and to what fine-
ness it may be reduced, and how curious ma-
chines, may be formed out of it ? That we do not
pretend to resolve ; but this we may venture to
say. That if we can find something which has no
relation to congruity with matter, or at least is
not such ; upon such an object, we may conclude,
matter cannot naturally act. But such notions
and things we are sure are within us. As for
example, conjunction and division, or affirmation
and negation, still continued reflexion, with a

DIVINITY.

possibility of still drawing it finer and finer, al-
most infinitely. These things mere matter seems
not capable of, how subtle and fine soever it may
be, because it acts only by images ; but we have
no image of affirmation and negation, or reflexion.
Actions, we are sure, pass within us, and which we
learned not from abroad, but could exercise as
long since as we are able to remember. The
words indeed, by which we express those actions,
we receive from abroad, but not the things. I
have a notion of a tree, a house, a man, in my
fancy; and can shut my eye, and reflect vividly
enough on the shapes of them depicted in my
brain ; but defy all the world to shew me a pic-
ture of that reflexion, and so onward ; or to tell
me in w hat colours. The act of affirmation and
negation, I will," and I will not," are inscribed
in the fancy.

Nay, further, the very notion or idea of an
immaterial or spiritual substance, which we find,
much after the same manner with those before
mentioned, instamped on our minds, would be a
very considerable argument of the truth and reality
of the thing itself, could we once prove it innate^
and not received from outward images, by dis-
course or reading, but this it is possible in a great
measure to perform; for we find no beginning in
history of this notion. No age, nor perhaps
place, where it is not believed ; confusedly or not,
is not the question; since it is Enough we are thus

S04 TH£ ATHENIAN ORACLE.

far certain, that a state after death has been univer-
sally credited, and that we have something in us
which survives our bodies. But the politic insti-
tutions and laws of, perhaps, all Nations in the
world, we can trace and discover ; of this we can
never find the root, nor ever shall any where but
in ourselves, how long soever we continue the
fruitless inquiry^

The next branch of our description of the soul is,
that it is made after the image of God. Nor will that
be found so loose or indistinct a notion as some will
at first glance perhaps imagine it. 1 believe Moses
wrote as a Philosopher as well as a Divine, at least
in what concerns the happiness of man, under
which some competent knowledge of his own soul
seems to be included, gives us just notions of
things. He tells us, that " man was created after
God's image this I do not expect should pass
with those who pretend themselves so averse to
authority, without reason. It is from experience
then, both of others and themselves, we are to ar-
gue with them. Accordingly, we say that man was
made with a dependance on, subservient to, and
image of God — as beasts bear the same relation to
man ; and add, that this image will very much
explain the human soul, add gives us some of
those incommunicable properties thereof, which
no beast possesses, though they have some sort
of image or resemblance of them.

We all then acknowledge, that that adorable

DIVINITY.

Perfection who made the world is unbounded or
infinite in all his attributes. We shall instance
in some of them, and shew the resemblance our
souls bear towards them, both as to their extent
and perfection. And these are, the knowledge of
of God, his power and sovereignty, and his jus-
tice, and love of order. Now, the soul has a
lively image or resemblance of the first of these,
in its infinite capacity, and unbounded desire of
knowledge, which, whatever these may have, has
hardly any share to which it may go, and no fur-
ther, nor can ever be satisfied with less than an
infinite object. It has, secondly, an image of the
sovereignty and power of God, in that empire it
has over itself and the visible world, and that no-
ble liberty it has towards representing objects.
This desire too is inexplicable by all the world,
and carries a sort of an infiniteness in it. Lastly,
it carries with it an image of the justice of God,
in its natural love of order, and that conscience
which it can never totally efface, but which sits
enthroned in the mind, is absolute and sovereign
there, can never be forced or controlled, but
passes judgment within itself, both of a man's
own actions and those of the universe.

Nor is any of this supposed only ; it is plain un-
deniable matter of fact, and what all the world
must acknowledge, if they be either just or inge-
nious.

But none of all these divine signatures are, that
we know of, in brute creatures, which are but

206

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

mere modified matter; nor ought we to grant any
powers in them, which cannot be proved and
cleared by such acts as are not equivocal and un-
certain. Their knowledge, if they have any thing
that can be called so, has nothing like infinite in
it, nor so much as a capacity thereunto. It is but
the faint image of ours, as ours is of a higher ;
and must needs be as dilute and weak as the rays
of the sun when reflected and refracted several
times from one object to another. It is only or
principally for the service of man, to whom it is
of much more use than to themselves. It is li-
mited one way, for one direct use and end. There
appears no consciousness of it, nor reflection upon
it, abstractedly considered, as we are sure we have
in our own, and can never prove in theirs; and so
in the other instances mentioned. The last clause
of the description is this, which, united with a
fitly organized body, constitutes a man. As
what went before distino^uished it from mere
matter, so this does from mere spirit, or Angel.

As for the latter branch of the question, whether
this soul be eternal ? If what is already proved
stands firm, that will hardly be denied : for
if by eternal is intended only immortal, as I pre-
sume the Querist only means, or eternal a pat te-
post, as the Schools call it ; it must unavoidably
be so because it is immaterial ; for I can conceive
no means of its ceasing to be, because I can have
no notion of a dissolution where there are no parts
in one without each other.

DIVINITY.

207

Quest. — Whether all souls are alike r
yifi^, — All souls are of equal excellence and per-
fection, as well the soul of an embryo, as of Aris-
totle, if you speak of the essential or specific ex-
cellence, which is equally communicated to all the
singulars or individuals of the same species : for
there is but one specific difference by which man,
and every particular man, is distinguished from
the beasts ; so that one man is not more reasonable
than another. It is true that the genius may be
more perfect in one species than in another; so
man is a more excellent creature than a beast, be-
cause the difference of rationality which is in
man is more excellent than the irrationality of
beasts. But Peter is not a more excellent man
than Paul, because the specific difference is not
more in Peter than in Paul. In respect of some ac-
cidental differences, there may be some inequa-
lity ; but these concern not the nature or essence
of man. Even so one soul may have more know-
ledge or other accidental perfection than another,
in respect of fitter organs, otherwise the same es-
sential excellence is equal in all, and the soul of
a fool is not less excellent than that of Solomon ;
nor of an embryo than of him who has Hved an
hundred years, except in accidental perfections ;
for, had the embryo's soul the same perfection of
organs, &c. that the soul of Aristotle had, she
would exercise the same organical acts that he did ;
that is, the same that immediately flow from, and
depend upon the soul.

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Quest. — In what part of the body is the soul?

j4ns, — It is generally held in every part; at
least we are sure it is not in a place in the same
manner that body is but a spirit, if we knew how
that was. But its noblest operations, imagining
and thinking, are undoubtedly transacted in the
brain. This we are sure of, that in deep think*
ing we feel our heads otherwise affected than at
other times ; and afterwards we as certainly know
they have been at hard labour, by that pain and
lassitude we find in them, as that our feet or hands
have been so, when, after a long w^alk or manual
operation, they are affected in the same manner.
The clearest notion of the soul's essence is, that
it is the image of God. As God is every where in
the greatest world, so it is according to its propor-
tion and similitude in the lesser, or the body of
man. It sits, perhaps, in its throne in the head ;
but its action not confined there, but diflfused
through all parts, and actuating them according
to their natures.

Quest. — Whether separate souls know one ano-
ther, seeing they have not the organs of seeing,
speech, &c. ?

Ans, — There is certainly a communication of
Angels and souls in Heaven, as appears from seve-
ral texts, Rev. vii. t), 10, 11, 12. 1 Cor. xiii. I.
Dan. viii. 13. But we can conceive this communi-
cation to be chiefly an ability of insinuating their
thoughts to each other by a mere act of their

DIVINITY.

wills, just as we now speak to God, or ourselves
when our lips do not move, or the least outward
sign appears. Whether there is any other con-
verse we know not ; but that there is what is suffi-
cient to know and to be known we are satisfied.

Quest, — What have the Philosophers, guided
only by natural reason, conceived as to the future
state of the coul ?

Ans, — When Socrates had the fatal draught,
looking upon the officers of death, he said,
that it did not seem to him that they led him to
death, but that he was going to mount up to hea-
ven." Cato embraced his son after he had awhile
contemplated the immortality of the soul. Plu-
tarch saith, " the wise man goes with pleasure out
of the darkness of the earth, to enjoy in heaven
an immortal light with the gods." — " Have cou-
rage," says another ; " let not death affright us,
since after death we shall either be gods, or like
gods. Let us not fear that our bodies will bury
our souls under their ruins. When this corporeal
nature shall entirely perish and disappear, there
is a necessity that the spirit which animates us,
and is the foundation of our being, must remain
without being hurt or damaged by them.

Quest, — Whetherthesoulsof studious orlearned
men are not more perfect in the world to come,

r

910

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

than the souls of the ignorant and illiterate, if
you suppose them equally pious here ?

Am, — Piety takes its estimate both from know-
ledge and practice, so that there cannot be an
equality between souls equally careful and indus-
trious here ; for the motive and manner of this
care are different in themselves, and act by senti-
ments not in the nature, but in the manner. As,
for instance, two persons go along the streets ; one
sees clearly, and the other is almost blind: they
both go the same journey, take the same care of
impediments ; but he that sees best has a better
prospect of the journey's end, and can go with
greater pleasure, being better able to avoid the
inconveniences of the way than the other. I
shall not enter into the dispute whether doing or
suffering shall have the greater reward hereafter ;
for they both proceed from one principle; but
certainly, the more we are like God both in know-
ledge and holiness, the higher our preferment will
be hereafter with him ; and no doubt this differ-
ence will much depend upon the improvements
we ourselves make of our time m this world.

Quest, — Where is the soul of man when he is
in a swoon r

Ans. — Wherever it is, or whatever it is doing,
the body knows nothing of it. The sensitive
faculties being useless by the unfitness of the or-
gans, and the common sense, imagination, me-

DIVINITT.

211

mory, and all stand still, as the different wheels
and motions of a watch or clock, when either the
weight is down, or any great spring or wheel is
disordered. The soul undoubtedly acts at pre*
sent by the corporeal organs ; and accordingly
we are not likely to remember what passes when
we are in the condition before mentioned. The
soul is still in the body, as much as spirit can be
in place, as much as it was before the person first
swooned, and remains there as long as the body
is any way tenantable, which it may be for some
time, though perhaps a little out of repair ; or else,
for aught we know, till God himself commands it
away, to return to him that gave it; and that as
realh^ and distinctly as he sends it first into the
body of the child in the womb of the mother.

Quest, — Whether there is such a particular
period set to the life of every particular man, as
that he cannot in the course of nature go beyond
it, and that he shall fulfil such a period, notwith-
standing any dangers of casualties he may engage
witlial ?

^w^.-— There have been many authors that have
controverted this case. The two principal texts,
brought by such as hold the afiirniative, are that
of Job, Thou hast appointed his hounds^ be-
yond which he cannot pass ; and the other is that
of our Saviour, Alt/ hour is not yet come. The
meaning of the first appears to us, that God has

? 2

212

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

sentenced numkind to mortality, and has so laid
the chain of causes, that man shall not outhve
the boimds ordinarily of seventy years, or a
few more, hecause of the conveniency of the
world, and the succession of generations. As for
the second, our Saviour very well knew the con-
spiracy, time, and manner of his death, with
every preceding circumstance that would concur
therewith ; and therefore he might properly say,
" his hour was not yet come," before that time.
Common experience shews that the temj^erate
live long and healthful, when the mtemperate
die quickly. Now for a man to say that God or-
dains the means and the end, is to say that God
is the author of sin: — if so, murders, rapine, vio-
lence, and all wickedness whatever, have a safe
retreat, nan)ely, a necessity — that it could not be
avoided ; and if so, farewell rewards and punish-
ments, heaven and hell, nay, even the existence
of a Divine Being.

Quest. — Does the Scripture any where affirm
an election of a determinate nun)ber of men to
eternal life and happiness ?

Atis. — We cannot he satisfied, by any of those
Scriptures which are brought for that purpose,
that there is any such election of a determinate
number as either puts a force on their creatures,
and irresistibly saves them, or absolutely excludes
all the rest of mankind from salvation. The

DIVINITY.

chief texts commonly brought in favour of that
opinion are the following: Acts xiii.48. As many
as were ordained to eternal life believed. But
Grotius and Hammond, Mr. Mede, and others,
seem to make it pretty clear that the original
word, trdus\3.ted ordained, signifies no more than
disciplined, listed in the number of those who
seek eternal life; being a military word^ and so
used by good authors; and accordingly, St. Chry-
sostom, as he is quoted by Dr. Hammond, so
interprets the place. Separated to God, de-
voted, addicted, prepared, or disposed to eternal
life." Another place most frequently urged, and
which seems most favourable to this opinion, is
that, Eph. i. 4. As he hath chosen us in him he-
fore the foundation of the world. By the word
election," says Grotius, is here meant vocation
by the Gospel ; as, on the contrary. Vocation is
sometimes taken for Election : 1 Cor. i. 24. To
them that are called, both Jew and Gentile,
Christ, the power of God, 8^c. Nor does the
word Election improperly signify the great be-
nefits reserved for those who were to live in the
time of the Messiah, as the word is taken, 1 Thess.
iv. 1 ; not that hereby is understood the actual
calling of the Jews and Gentiles, but the decree
for their calling. We add, that there is no doubt
but whosoever are saved receive so great a be-
nefit, not through their own merits, but God*s
niercy in Jesus, to whom all his works were

S14

IME ATHENIAN OrtACLK.

known from the foundation of the world ; that is,
from all eternity ; but yet we think there is no
one place in the Holy Scripture, which proves
that so many men, and no more, were irresistibly
determined to eserlasting salvation.

Quest, — Why is the sense of approaching
death so alarming to some, and yet not at all for-
midable to others ? and which is the noblest,
which the easiest death ?

Ans, — it is alarming, not only to some, but to
all— naturally, from that reluctance and horror,
arising from the apprehension of approaching
dissolution, which we see even in creatures that
want reason, from an instinct fixed in their na-
tures for the preservation of their beings; but
this is heightened in rational ^creatures, by a
further consideration of hereafter, and the fear of
something still behind that is worse than death:
both which fears are conquered, at least relieved,
in others, either by a custom of facing death, or
by a very pious or desperately profligate life. — The
noblest death, undoubtedly, is dying for Religion ;
next to that, for our Country, let the manner be
what it will in either. The easiest death is at the
mouth of a cannon, where, in the hundredth part
of a minute, a man is mounted up to immortality*

Qw^a/. -—Whether the Pentateuch was written
by M OSes ?

•

DIVINITY.

«15

Arts. — We prove that these five books were
really written by Moses; 1st. from the universal
traditional testimony, both of Jews, Christians,
and Heathens, much more than we have for
Homer's, Pindar's, VirgiPs, or Confucius's works,
which from a single, narrow, national tradition,
we so firmly believe to be theirs whose names
they bear, that a man would deserve no other
answer but laughter, who afilrmed the contrary.
The Jews and Christians will not dispute it.
The ancient, very ancient Heathens, affirm as
much. Orpheus himself, or if not he, one al-
lowedly very ancient author, mentions him, his
works, his very name, as clearly as it could be
expressed in Greek, and that as a Lawgiver ; and
quotes out of him the same things we now find in
the writings which bear his name.

But we have infinitely a more sure word of
Prophecy and are able to demonstrate in this
case, as well as several others, that those who
deny Moses must deny Our Saviour, for it is he
who expressly and frequently appeals to the books
of Moses, the Canon being long before that time
fixed as it is now. Thei/ have Moses and the
Prophets, say Our Saviour. Again, in another
place, IVhat did Moses command? Why was
this asked, if not unanswerable. So St. Luke,
xxiv. 27, Beghnring at Moses and all the Pro-
phets; and St. Mark, xii. 26. Have ye not read
in the book of MoseSy how in the bush God spake

216

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

unto him. Further, we are able to prove three
of those books at least quoted. As his Exodus is
called the Book of Moses in the place just men-
tioned; and again in Heb. ix. 19, Leviticus is
said to be the writing of Moses ; Romans, v.
Deuteronomy in the viith of the Acts, and the
27th ; or, what is equivalent, texts are taken from
thence, whereof Moses is affirmed to be the
author.

The objections against this hypothesis are, the
several passages in these writings, which, it is
said, agree not to the time of Moses ; in the chief
are these following: — Gen. xiii. 7; "And the
Canaanite and the Perizzite dwelled then in the
land whence it is argued, they dwelt not there,
now, when this was written ; and therefore the
book of Genesis was composed after the Canaa-
nites were expelled. Of the same nature is that ex-
pression unto this day ; for, say the objectors, were
not the time wherein those things were transacted
long passed, it were not proper for the historian
to say things continued in such or such a state
to this day. Another argument is, Moses, speak-
ing of himself as a third person, commending,
discommending, &c. which they think he would
not have done, had he wrote himself ; another,
the naming of places, particularly Dan, which
was not so called till many ages after ; another,
the death of Moses being described in the last
chapter ; and lastly, the coherence and connec-

DIVINITY. 217

tion between these and the succeeding books, as
far as Ezra. And thus we have endeavoured
fairly to represent the strength of their objections ;
whereunto we give the following, and, we hope,
satisfactory answers.

And first, should we grant that the high priests
or scribes in every agCj having the keeping of the
Sacred Canon, made what literal or verbal addi-
tions or alterations they thought fit, to render
them more plain and intelligible to the Church,
for whose use they were written : this would
clear all the controversy. But we think there is
no need of making use of this general shield,
while we are able to put by every particular stroke
which has been made at the antiquity of these
books. The first is, " the Canaanite and the Periz-
zite were then in the land whence they would
argue, they were not so at the writing the his-
tory : but we deny that to be a fair way of rea-
soning ; the particle then relating not always to
ti7ne present^ but sometimes to the time past,
and that as properly as the other. Thus we may
say, supposing, in the time of William Rufus,
the Normans were then in the land, referring^to
their not having been so before, or of such or such
a year before passed. Supposing one had lived in
166*5, the plague was then in the city, not at all
affirming it not there when we spoke it. Now,
we found good reason for this expression, tJie
Canaanite was then in the land, Gen. xii. 8.

2l8

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

because of what follows, the Lord said, unto thy
seed will I give this land; it being a commenda-
tion of the faith of Abraham, that he beheved
what was promised, when there appeared so little
likelihood thereof. Again, chap. xiii. ver. 7.
There was a strife between Ahraharns and Lofs
herdsmen, and the Caiiaanite dwelled then in
the land. The inconvenience and scandal of their
strife being insinuated, when they were among
such ill neighbours ; for which reason too, Abra-
ham might urge concord between them^ and
says : Let there he no strife, for we are brethren.
The second expression, mito this day, signifies
an undetermined space of time, more or less, and
may as fairly be applied to a short time as a long
one. Thus it is said of Rahab the harlot, She
herself, not her family, she dwelleth in Israel
unto this day, Josh. vi. :25, which therefore could
not be long after the time wherein the thing
happened.

As for Moses speaking of himself in the
third person, so does St. John and many other
writers, nothing being more common. As for his
commending, dispraising himself, &c. it argues
the authority, simplicity, and impartiality of his
writings. As for his naming places as they were
long after called, we may without violence affirm
it prophetical prolepsis; for why may not names
of places, as well as things, be spoken of by pro-
phecy, to make the thing prophesied more un-

DIVINITY.

questionable, when it begins to be fulfilled ? as
Cyrus and others. For the addition of a few
lines at the latter end of Deuteronomy, giving
an account of his death, that indeed might be
added by succeeding governors, Joshua or Elea-
zar, as a postscript, though the rest all his own
writing.

But then they argue, from the connexion and
coherence between the different books, both these
five and the succeeding, that they were all the
work of one hand ; which leads to the examina-
tion of the hypothesis which they advance in-
stead of the old one, namely, at the destruction
of the Temple, all the copies of the Holy Books
were burnt ; when (says the Apocrypha) Esdras,
or Ezra, by the strength of memory, recovered
them again, word for word ; say the objectors,
he, out of all the sacred books, composed what
we have now, giving the first five the name of
Moses, to gain them the higher authority, and
adding the rest as he thought fit. But neither
can this hold ; because this story of Ezra is all
apocryphal; and much more what they build
upon it, because there were several copies of
those books written out for the King, and pro-
bably too for the Levites and expounders of the
Law, in their cities and synagogues ; because the
book of Moses is mentioned expressly, both in
the Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah; because we
find in the Writers after their captivity several

«

220 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Chaidee words, and almost whole chapters, but
not so in the Pentateuch, &c. ; because the Sa-
maritans had, and still have, the Pentateuch,
though they had nothing to do with the Jews
after their captivity. Lastly, because the ark of
God is described in some of those books^ namely,
.2 Chron. v. 9. as then, when the book was writ-
ten, continuing in the same posture as it was
when removed by Solomon. "They drew out the
staves of the ark, and there they are unto this
day : but neither staves nor ark, as it is noto-
riously known, continued under the second tem-
ple ; and, as for the corrections, they might be
made as the postscript of Deuteronomy, before
mentioned.

221

PART III.

(2UESTIOiNS AND ANSWERS

ON

LOVE AND MARRIAGE.

Quest. — What is Love ?

yJns. — It is very much like light — a thing
that every body knows, and which none can well
explain. It is not money, fortune, jointure,
raving, stabbing, hanging, romancing, flouncing,
swearing, romping, desiring, fighting, dying,
though all those have been, are, and will con-
tinue to be, mistaken and miscalled for it. It is
a pretty little soft thing, that plays about the
heart } and those who have it will know it well
enough by this description. It is extremely like
a sigh; and could we find a painter that could
draw one, you would easily mistake it for the
other. It is all over eyes ; so far is it from being
blind, as some old dotards have described it, who

22«

THE ATIJENIAN ORACLE,

certainly were blind themselves. It has a mouth
too, and a pair of pretty hands ; but yet the
hands speak, and you may fee] at a distance every
word that comes from the mouth gently stealing
through your very soul. But we dare not make
any further inquiries, lest we should raise a spirit
too powerful for all our art to lay again.

Quest. — Why Love generally turns to coldnes*
and neglect after marriage ?

Ans. — Had the question been proposed uni-
versally, as if it always had done so, we must
have denied it, since we have in our knowledge
instances of some persons who have their flames
and raptures, and all that, as Hudibras calls it,
as much after the noosing as before ; and, to say
truth, those who are so are in so fine a dream,
that it were both a pity and a cruelty to wake
them. But the question is very cautiously and
prudently put — Why Love generally turns to cold-
ness ? In which sense it is undeniably true, and
the reason thereof we shall attempt to give. —
Variety has a strange charm in it, and satiety
commonly causes loathing; and even manna,
every day, would make us weary of it. But this
variety may be obtained, this satiety may be
cured, where there is at first a virtuous love,
grounded on sympathy and similitude; where
there are besides wit and discretion ; all which
have cliarms that never can be exhausted. Dis-

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. S23

cretion hides those faults which are generally
discovered after marriage, or by degrees removes
them ; if not, virtuous Love excuses, or at least
balances them, and wit has always something
entertaining and new ; that is the salt and spirit
which keeps the sweets of matrimony from grow-
ing vapid, dull, and disagreeable. If it is very
seldom all these qualifications meet, it is no won-
der that the first order as seldom continues ; but,
where these are, it cannot fail. Thus we have
not only shown the reason of this coldness and
neglect, so very common after marriage, but
also the manner how to avoid it.

Quest, — What are the best remedies for Love,
and what cure is there for a desperate love ?

Ans. — ^There is a story of a monk, that was
so desperately in love with a barber's daughter,
who lived near his monasterv, as to make him
absolutely unfit for any business. His abbot had
a great kindness for him ; and, finding arguments
useless, very carefully and fatherly ordered the
two Lovers to be shut up together in a close room,
and no one to come near them, and their pro-
visions to be put in at a small wicket every day.
The monk, for the first week, thought himself
in paradise; the second it was pretty well; but
the third in purgatory ; the fourth, in hell itself;
begging at the wicket, of all love?, that the abbot
would let him out again, though, he were to live

224

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

on nothing but bread and water ; — a pleasant
remedy enough, but such an one as our desperate
lover will hardly find practicable. We therefore
advise him to a long absence, hard labour, work
it out ; for some say it is a lazy disease. Or, if this
suit not with their circumstances, let them affront
the person loved, and thereby get themselves
more absolutely scorned and hated; and if that
do not answer, they almost deserve no other but
a hempen remedy.

Quest. — Where is the likeliest place to get a
husband in ?

Am. — Poor distressed lady! had we but her
name, we should be induced to insert an adver-
tisement for her in this book. But, since she has
left us in the dark, she must be contented with
the best directions we can give her in this weighty
matter. We answer, then, that it is the likehest
place to get a Lover where there are fewest Wo-
men ; and accordingly, if she will venture to ship
herself for some of the Plantations by the next
fleet, if she is at all marketable, ten to one but
one or other will save her longinsT.

Quest. — Is absence best for Love ?

Jns. — Not in the beginning of an amour, but
when it is confirmed and settled. It is dangerous
at first, because it gives a Rival opportunity to
make addresses; and it is in loving as it is in
racing — where, if once a horse get the start, it is

LOVE AND MARRIAGBy 225

not SO easily recovered. But when the main
dispute is once over, and the heart fairly won,
the case is much altered ; then, perhaps, being
always present is one of the most dangerous,
though desired, things that can befall a lover. As
acquaintance grows more intimate, our lovers are
still less upon their guard ; they do not show their
best side to one another as at first. Faults will
daily be found, unlucky accidents will fall out,
such things will be discovered as would never
iiave been suspected nor believed ; a thousand lit-
tle quarrels and piques will arise, which at least
produce vexation, oftentimes a final parting. But
in absence it is quite the reverse ; we willingly
forget the faults of those we love, and magnify
their excellencies ; we embrace and cherish their
dear ideas and memories ; we are daily expecting
and wishing to hear from them ; and if we hear,
especially by letters, our love is extremely in-
creased by those little subtle messengers : there is
all the soul, and more, to be seen in them. We
say therein whatever we please, without being
put to the trouble of a suitable repartee, or seek-
ing for a kind, and yet discreet answer. All our
thoughts are there exhibited at the best advan-
tage, and we may give them just what turn we
please. The man may write with as much pas-
sion as he pleases ; he may set his adorable before
him, dressed m as many beauties as his fancy can
form, without having the original present to con-

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE*

fute him ; and write according to the new-found
excellence of his ideal mistress, and bring in all
the fine things he thinks of. The lady may,
with all the caution she pleases, answer him
again, and let as much love as she will look out
through her prudence ; make what promises she
pleases, yet with such restrictions and modifica^-
tions as shall bind her no more than ropes of
sand. And when they come once to meet again,
there is such ado, with transports, raptures, and
the rest, that, in a word, we dare think no longer
of it.

Quest, — Whether it be lawful for a young
lady to pray for a husband; and, if lawful, in
what form ?

Ans. — He must renounce humanity that would
not make it as immortal as possible, which is
only effected by Marriage, whereby we survive
in our children. Misery, without a friend to
bear a part, is very afflicting; and happiness,
without communication, is tedious. We should
be a vagrant sort of animal without Marriage, as
if Nature were ashamed of our converse. We
should contribute to the destruction of states,
condemn the wisdom of the first institutor, and
censure the edicts of such commonwealths, who,
upon very good grounds, have discountenanced
and punished celibacy. Nay, supposing all the
miseries that marriage-haters suggest should fall

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. SiJ

upon US, it is our own fault, if, with Socrates, we
do not learn more by a scolding wife than by all the
precepts of philosophers. — ^Now, if it be lawful to
marry, it is lawful for ladies to pray for good hus-
bands, if they find their inclinations, concerns in the
world, or other motives, which they are to be
judges oi] consistent with the ends of such so-
ciety. As to the form of prayer required, they
may, if they please, use the following, if they are
not better furnished already ;

" From a profane libertine, from one affectedly
pious, from one of a starched gravity, or of ridi-
culous levity, from an ecstasied poet, from a mo-
dern wit, from a base covvard, and a rash fool ;
from a Venus darling, from a Bacchus proselyte,
from a domestic animal, save me.

"Give me one whose love has more of judgment
than passion, who is master of himself, who has
an equal flame, a parallel inclination, a temper
and soul so like mine, that, as two tallies, we
may appear more perfect by union !

Give me one of a genteel education, with an
indifferent fortune, rather independant of the
servile fate of palaces, and yet one whose retire-
ment is not so much from the publick as into him-
self; one above flattery and aflFront, and yet as
careful in preventing the injury as able to repair
it ; one, the beauty of v^hose mind should exceed
that of his face, yet not deformed so as to be dis-
tinguishable from others even into ridicule !

«:*8 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

" Give me one that has learned to Hve much in
a little time ; one that is no great familiar in con*
verse with the world, nor no little one with him-
self; who, with these uncommon endowments of
mind, may have a sweet, mild, easy disposition ;
but, as the master-perfection, let him be truly vir*
tuous and good !"

Quest. — Whether it is better to live single, or
to marry?

Ans, — Marriage is all in the extremes, nothing
moderate in it; it is either accompanied with
hatred and bitterness, or full of sweetness and
affection ; it is either a paradise, or a hell. It is
never the latter from its own nature; but from the
fault of the persons, who know not how to use it
as they ought. Persons are generally so happy
in it, that they would not leave it if they might
have their choice. When the Emperor Conrade
the Third besieged Guedelphus Duke of Bavaria
in the city of Wensburg in Germany, the wo-
men, perceiving that the town could not possibly
hold out long, petitioned the Emperor that they
might depart only with so much as each of them
could carry on their backs ; which the Emperor
consented to, expecting they would have loaded
themselves with silver and gold, &c. ; but they all
came forth, every one with her husband upon her
back ; at which the Emperor was so moved, that
be wept, received the Duke into his favour, gave

LOVE AND MARRIAGE.

all the men their lives, and extolled the women
with deserved praises. — There needs not a greater
instance of there being something in marriage
beyond any other enjoyment in the world : but
let the ladies judge, since their own sex were par-
ties concerned in this affair.

Quest, — Whether fruition diminishes love ?

Ans, — If the love terminates upon the senses,
and fixes not upon the soul, human weakness is
soon weary, and inclined to change; and fami-
liarity breeds contempt. But such a love as cen-
ters upon virtue, modesty, and mental endow-
ments, cannot be cloyed, because it is always
increasing, and the mind always as active. To
question whether we love such a subject when
we possess it, is to ask whether love be love ; —
passion before enjoyment is desire, but possession
alone is capable of producing true love. Now, the
perfection of any thing must be its completion, and
not destruction ; friendship is by acts increased;
and no doubt but, if there was occasion, there
might be found many married persons that would
not hesitate to imitate the noble contention of
Gracchus and Cornelia, by choosing to die for
one another.

Question. — Why men obliged do still fresh loves pursue.
While those denied are generally true ?

Answer* By wind and water sparks and flames arise.

While soon the quiet flame in ashes dies.

230

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Question (From the Ladies). —

How Love to all our hearts the way can find^
When he himself, vain deity, is blind ?

Answer. Unless ourselves we yield, he can't command 5

He finds the way because we guide his hand.

1.

Question. — Say, if your studies can devise.

Or what new methods can you find.
That men, made up of oaths and lies.
May yet be charm'd by womankind ?
2.

Or, since the task so hard does prove.
What is 't that our poor sex must do.

While, though we would declare our love,
'Tis yet too dangerous to woo ?
3.

If we surrender soon our hearts.

Those easy conquests soon disdain.
Yet rail at all our female arts.

And swear that maids should never feign.
4.

How wretched then is virgin youth.

Which neither path can safely try.
Since Scorn attends on speaking truth.

And Virtue yet forbids to lie !
1.

Answer. A brave resistance gives renown, /

While easy conquests all disdain >
The longer you defend the town.
The greater honour still you gain.
2.

Nor ever was 't esteem'd disgrace.
When there 's no succour in the field.

Although you '11 not betray the place,
pn honourable terms tp yield.

LOVE AND MARRIAGE.

3.

That weak within, you need not own
To those who eagerly pursue ;

Nor are without, our forces known.
But you cheat us, and we cheat you.

4.

From questions by ensnaring youth
Proposed, your wit must set you free ;

You need not tell us all the truth, —
You 're on your oaths no more than we.

Quest, — I have promised Marriage against the
consent of my friends ; which they suspecting
have resolved to marry me to another, for whom
I have a great aversion : — how am I to behave
myself in this difficult affair ?

Ans, — ^The resolving of two questions will clear
all the difficulty in this affair. Whether a pro-
mise of marriage is binding when made against
the consent of friends ? and, Whether friends
have any power to force consent to marriage ?
For the first, if the person be of years of discre-
tion, the promise is really binding, so as never
to marry any other, but to marry that person as
soon as all obstructions are removed ; but the
want of parents' consent is a very just obstruction
as long as they live, though not any longer, for
they have no power to disannul any such contract
or promise, when once actually and solemnly
made.

:^32 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

With respect to the second question, so far as
children are under government, and not at their
own disposal, they undoubtedly sin in making
such promises, and cannot perform them till their
parents' consent, or death, gives them liberty.
But so far as they are free and rational creatures,
they have a power of disposing of themselves ; for
so much power no parent himself, unless a tyrant,
can deny them. Children are neither cattle nor
slaves ; they have therefore at least a negative
voice, even where there was no prior obligation,
much more where there is ; though, supposing
there were none, they ought to submit to their
parents' choice, unless where it is a plain case
that it would make them miserable. The positive
promise in this case was unlawful, nor is it to be
actually performed without the parents' consent or
death ; yet the parent has no power to annul this
promise, much less to force their child to marry
any other.

Quest, — A lady with a good fortune has a mind
to marry; but is unwilling to have either a fool,
a fop, or a beau, a cotquean, a book-learned sot,
or one they call a sober honest man — such an
one, I mean, as goes plodding about all day, mind-
ing only the main chance — in the evening, for
his diversion, drinks his pint, or smokes some
hours in a tavern with company that pleases him,
comes home and grumbles at his wife if the day's

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 233

expences have been a halfpenny extraordinary —
that will buy his v^^ife some good clothes to go
abroad with him on holidays, or to a neighbour s
christening; hardly else allowing her to stir; and
sometimes gives her half-a-crovvn in her pocket,
of which she must render an exact account. I
now say, a woman being to make her choice,
which of these, think you, is the least evil? and, if
she likes none of them, what sort of a husband
must she choose ?

Ans, — The lady is a little difficult; and seems
not in haste to be married, if she stays till a hus-
band offers that is not touched with any of the
characters she has given.

Let us compare these fine rivals, and see which
of them best deserves the honour of a lady's love.
For the first, a Fool, whom for the present we will
suppose distinguished from his near kindred that
follow, fop, beau, &c. Some of the fair sex
would make choice of a fool that they might go-
vern, as the fool husband would have no brains
for the task. But one should think a preposte-
rous desire of domination would hardly outweigh
the inconvenience of his nauseous folly ; besides
that, sometimes the lady may be mistaken ; for
some fools are certainly the most unmanageable
beasts in nature, and a wise woman will not de-
sire to have more of her own will than a wise man
would permit her. — Exit Fool,

Now for Fop, who only thinks a little better of

234 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

himself than his elder brother, though of the
self-same family; he has as httle wit, though more
noise ; he is not so heavy as his brother, and is
hardly so much fool as madman — a dancing,
singing, empty creature, and may make an indif-
ferent plaything, but a bad husband, unless you
intend to share him with all the kind souls in the
nation. — The Beau is only a Fop of the last edi-
tion, a very fortune-hunter, and therefore the
ladies must look to themselves, for he aims as
sharply at all the young, as the crazy King of Por-
tugal used to do at the old women, and hopes as
surely to fetch them down with his heart-breakers
as the other with his blunderbuss. He is in love
with his clothes as much as the Fop with himself ;
he is all garniture. Could a lady change him as
oft as he does his fashions, it would be a little safer
venturing upon him ; but she may have him a
better bargain if she can find any way to purchase
his clothes, for she then has all of him, or at least
a more essential part than either his soul or body. —
For a Cotquean, it is an awkward sort of a creature
too to make a husband of ; but the best is, he will
be niore troublesome to the maids in the kitchen
than to you ; and besides, you will be sure to
have him much at home ; for this two-legged turn-
spit, exactly contrary to his brother brute, cannot
endure to be out of the way when the cook has
any business. — For a Book-learned Sot, the truth
is^ it is very hard to have him always making love

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 2S5

to his books^ and forget his own flesh and blood ;
and it may tempt a lady sometimes to wish herself
a book, that she may now and then be folded
down, or turned over ; but, for the most, those
wives have no reason to complain, for they have
their husbands always at home, safe locked up as
their plate or jewels, and can resort to them for
advice as often as there is occasion. Lastly, for
the sober honest man, who minds the main
chance, &c. one would think he should please;
but then he goes plodding about all day, and
drinks his pint of wine at the tavern in the even-
ing ; perhaps too stays out late at night ; — why,
all this is pretty tolerable ; nor is what follows very
ill — buys his wife good clothes, lets her go abroad
to see her neighbours, gives her a little money to
spend ; though, if she has but wit enough to pre-
vent being a beggar, if she has a good fortune she
will reserve to herself so much when she gives the
rest as never to be reduced to such meanness ;
and, if the man can afford it, he will give her a
weekly allowance for family expences, without
either requiring or undertaking the drudgery of
trifling accounts. However, this character is ea-
sily distinguishable from the rest; and we suppose
the lady means by it, a hum-drum, brainless,
wooden fellow^r— a mere husband, with no life, nor
spirit, nor conversation — in a word, a trading
blockhead, which no ingenuous woman would be
bound apprentice to for life if she could avoid it.

2S6 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

If she be at her own disposal, it is almost impossi-
ble in this case to be deceived ; for the man de-
scribed is such a kind of thing as no disguise will
conceal ; he must shew himself when he puts on
his holyday suit, and steps a-courting, though
leaving word whither he is gone, for fear of a cus-
tomer ; nor can he so much as ask the grand
question out of his shopboard phrase, " Madam,
what do you please to buy ?" However, this we
think more tolerable than most of his rivals. The
Fool is too bad. The Fop, the Beau, and brisk
careless fellow, will, if possible, beggar himself, and
you, and all his family. The Cotquean is more
proper for a scullion than a husband. This plod-
ding main-chance fellow you speak of will secure
you good clothes, and one of the highest pews in
the church, while he lives ; and, if he happens to
drop off, leaves you another chance, and your
fortune better than ever. Nor have we forgot
him that we left plodding in his study, whom
perhaps sympathy makes us inclined to vote for
before all the rest. He is no fool, though he
may look like one ; he is generally sound and ho-
nest— not so the Fop and Beau ; he plagues you
not in the kitchen like Sir Cot, nor calls you
coram nobis for the odd farthings in buying a piece
of beef, hke your lump of a spark behind the
counter; but lets you alone, to rule and order his
family, buy as many fine clothes as you please,
and do what you like best ; and, unless you

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 237

Want atl angel, where could you find a better than
a virtuous iover of learning r

Quest. — Being lately in the country, I fell in
the company of two sisters of equal fortunes, the
elder handsome, and of a sweet temper, the
younger a perfect beauty, her temper but so so ;
however, at first sight she quite enfiamed me, but
her conversation somewhat cooled the fire her
eyes had kindled. In the mean time, the conver-
sation of the other absolutely charmed me. I
love to look on the one I love, to discourse with
the other. In this state of divided love I met
with a third, neither fair nor good-natured, but
possessing a large fortune. Which ought I to
choose, beauty, or good-humour, or tenfold riches?

A72S. — To begin with the beauty, which gene-
rally attracts soonest, though it seldom holds
longest, we can by no means vote for her; for, if
she be without good-humour, she is nothing but
a gilded bawble. Beauty soon dies ; a fit of sick-
ness, or bearing a few children, soon spoils it,
and, though it does well before marriage, there
are but few who admire it afterwards. Besides,
even a froward temper, if there is nothing else,
soon decays it ; for a face that is often used to
wear voluntary wrinkles will at length contract
natural ones ; and a sour air spoils the finest face
in the world. A man courts for a short time, but
when he marries he is fixed for life. There is no

!23S THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

remedy for a man that has a scolding wife, except
a little cotton for his own ears, or a drum for hers^
Nor is the rich fool much more ehgible. It is
true, were the fortune to be had without the
lawful incumbrance, or were it lawful, after the
honey-moon was over, to carry her down for a
few months to the Fens of Lincolnshire, or the
Hundreds in Essex, there might be something to
be said in favour of it; though we should think it
as hard fortune, were it our own case, to be turned
out of the world because old and rich, as w^e do
that the poor giants in romances should be all
knocked on the head, merely because they were
larger and stronger than other men. No, better
leave her and all her luggage at a safer distance ;
never be a slave, only to see the golden fetters
glitter. If she is deformed, or a fool, all the beau-
tiful faces she has in her bags will not keep her
own from frightening you ; she will soon grow
disagreeable; for a fool in the house is like one on
the stage — it never shews well twice. She with
a moderate face and fortune, and very good hu-
mour, is the girl; there being many inconvenien-
ces in uniting with the other, but none at all, or
at least but what are common, in venturing on the
third, the elder of the two country sisters.

Quest. — Is it possible to love so well after mar-
riage as before ? and if it be, what are the best
means of preserving so great a happiness ?

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 239

Ans, — If by loving as well be meant loving with
the same ardour and sensitive pleasure as before,
it is impossible. But though in this sense there
are not many love so well, unless after long absence,
yet undoubtedly there are many who love far bet-
ter in another sense, in that love which has less of
the sense — and more of the soul in it. This love,
like wine, grows finer and more spirituous by age;
it more resembles friendship. Wherever such
persons meet as are possessed of many noble qua-
lities, the more they are acquainted the more they
love.

The directions how to preserve so great a hap-
piness are — first, to love those who have something
to recommend them besides beauty, wit, or for-
tune ; any of which alone are but mean compa-
nions when we are to have no other society all
our lives. To all these let good-humour be added;
and discretion, virtue, and piety, if you know
where to find them. When thus met, let nothing
but death part you, and never be both angry at
once. But, if you must sometimes fall out, be sa
wise as to take your turns, and, when it is over,
learn the excellent art of forgetfulness ; or, if you
remember any thing, let it be each for yourselves,
not, as is common, for one another. And, as the
crown of all, let your love be in one sense truly
spiritual ; not only love the body, but the soul,
that you may never part, here or hereafter !

240

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Quest. — I am a married man ; but, having a
very bad wife, have been parted from her some
years, and design never to Hve with her more.
Now I desire your advice, whether I may pray to
God to take her to himself, that I may endeavour
to make myself happy in another mate ?

Ans, — Surely, if she is fit for Heaven she is fi^
for you ; as, if she were as good while you Hved
with her as she is now, how came you to part*
But, supposing the cause were sufficient, and she
is yet no better ; it would yet be handsomer to
submit to God's will, and wait with patience; or
rather pray for her improvement, and that she
may not be taken hence till she is prepared for
Heaven.

Quest. — A gentleman having been formerly in
love, and disappointed, offered his hand to ano-
ther lady, who refuses to receive him, because she
thinks it not possible for a gentleman who has
been in love before to love again with the same
ardour and affection as at first.

Ans. — The lady has nothing to fear ; the ma-
jority give their suffrage in the affirmative. This
is clear, if we consider how often some are mar-
ried, how many have been disappointed in their
affections, either by parents' compulsions, their
own quarrels, or upon second or more advised
thoughts, and yet, after all, have proved happy
instances of an extraordinary affection. Nor can

LOVE AND MARRIAGE.

241

We see any reason to the contrary, since the affec-
tion terminates not so much in the person as in
the quahfications of those who are loved ; it is
there only that a wise man's interest is secured. I
am ready to confess, sensual love hates a rival,
and perhaps cannot be twice passionately fixed.
But the soul is unconfined and free^ is ignorant of
the name of rival, as also of the distinction of
sexes ; it fixes and removes, as unbiassed and so-
ber reason dictates. Where that fixes, and is se-
cured, the lesser, I mean that of the person, always
submits ; at least so far as is necessary for an easy
and comfortable life. An agreeable converse, and
union of soul, never cloy; but are equally vigorous
in youth and age, and in all states and conditions
where the fear of God resides.

Quest, — A gentleman being in love with a
young lady, and having disclosed himself to her
with all kindness, she slighted him, and never
would own she had any respect for him ; on which
the courtship dropped : now, having gained the
affection of another, the former charges him with
inconstancy. It is required to know, to which of
them he should cleave ?

Ans. — You are obliged to keep to the last^,
having already made your addresses to her, and
handsomely retreated from the first ; though we
should not have commended your haste, but that
we suppose gratitude might have a little influence

242

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

on you ; and indeed it is too commonly practised to
refuse or despise a fair lady, only because she
loves first.

Quest, — A young man having married a young
v/oman who was well descended, but her fortune
being far inferior to her inward endowments, the
marriage was disapproved of by her husband's
relations ; insomuch that they leave no means
unattempted to set the young couple at variance;
the consequence whereof, it is feared, will prove
destructive to each other s happiness. She, being
virtuously inclined, desires advice in her beha-
viour towards her husband's relations in such a
case ?

Atis. — ^This is so common an error in parents,
that the lady cannot much wonder at it ; and
though the commonness of it will not excuse the
wickedness in respect to them, it may in some
degree make her more easy under it ; and it is not
improbable but, in time, by bearing all their un-
handsome reflections without seeming to resent
them, and respecting them as the relations of her
husband, she may convince them that such a
good and prudent wife is a much more suitable
match to one that can maintain her, than a golden
one without these qualities. Yet, should this
produce not the wished-for efl^ect, it will not miss
of its reward ; since it is natural to suppose that
her husband, who already loves her for her merit,

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 243

will esteem her still more; though^ should this
also fail, she cannot want that satisfaction of
mind which always results from having acted
wisely, and done our duty.

Quest. — I am a young woman, and have been
very dutiful to my parents ; but now they liave
proposed a husband for me whom I cannot love :
therefore how shall I discharge my duty ? whe-
ther to oblige my parents, and live an uncom-
fortable life (for I cannot expect any other^ where
minds are not equally agreed) ; or to disoblige
them, by refusing what they so earnestly im-
portune ?

Ans. — As a child cannot lawfully dispose of
itself without the consent of its parents, so on
the other hand the parents cannot marry their
children without their consent. Indeed, a duty
to our parents, and the respect we should have
for their judgments, should be of more weight in
this affair than a childish unreasonable fancy,
and which, in all probability, will be the ruin of
the person that entertains it ; though, on the
contrary, where it is covetousness, or some un-
accountable whim, that is the motive in the pa-
rents, the many unhappy examples that have
been in such matches should prevail with them
against such injunctions ; and we think it not
undutifulness in children to deny their compli-
ances, after all just methods, by the intercession

R 2

244

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

of friends «ind entreaties to the contrary. There
is no greater barbarity in nature than unequal
matches ; the mines and galleys are trifles to it
in this life, and it is too often the earnest of worse
hereafter.

Quest, — Whether it is honourable for a lady
to answer a gentleman's letters, when she intends
not to entertain him ?

jins\ — It is rrue that writing is a nice thing,
but it is not every letter that will bear being seen.
Men, when repulsed, often grow malicious and
desperate, and will make what interpretation they
please of what is written ; or, if it is too prudently
expressed to admit any cavils, which is almost
impossible, they will as severely censure the very
action of writing, or else interpret it too favour-
ably for themselves, and put the lady to further
trouble in undeceiving them ; for which reason,
it had been much more proper if the query had
been, whether such writing had been prudent,
rather than honourable, which, in most instances,
must have been resolved in the negative. How-
ever, there may be some singular cases, wherein
it may be both honourable and prudent for the lady
to write ; as when she is satisfied the person she
writes to is a man of honour, and cannot other-
wise so well disengage him from a fruitless amour.

Quest, — Having an intimate acquaintance with

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 245

a lady of quality and fortune, and being by fre-
quent and familiar expressions of uncommon
favours induced into a belief of more tban or-
dinary kindness, I at last declared my ambitious
affection ; — at which she rejected my proposals
with the greatest regret and disdain, yet notwith-
standing continues a more strict and kind cor-
respondence than ever, so long as I mention not
any thing, or send any letter tending to my former
address; but, as often as I court her compla-
cency, she not only gives me sharp denials, but
for some time absents herself from me. Yet I am
informed of her uneasiness and melancholy tem-
per when I am gone, and of the pleasure and satis-
faction she takes when I am talked of, or in com-
pany. Likewise our daily private conversation,
both the freedom and liberty of honourable ac-
tions, discourse, and silent natural love, not only
confirm me in the belief of it, but I am con-
vinced on all hands, and apparently perceive she
loves me extremely well.

Now, being fully assured I shall never gain her
consent or prevail upon her by express courtship,
and knowing that she is a lady of honour and
entire chastity, I desire to know what method I
shall use to marry her, without either speaking
or writing to her of love and affection ?

Ans. — It would be well if you could conjure
here one of the mutes of the seraglio to be your
tutor for one quarter of a year, and teach you to

246

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE,

make dumb love^ in which they so much excel.
But, since the black art is not lawful, and it
would take a long time to fetch the mute either
by land or sea, you must be content with the
Council of Christendom in this weighty affair.
But, first, we congratulate your happiness in
having a mistress that will not put you to the
expense of oaths or falsehoods, or so much as pen,
ink, and paper ; indeed, you seem not properly
to estimate your good fortune. Why, hovj many
silly things are we poor militant lovers obliged to
talk to our mistresses before we can thoroughly
deceive them ! what a parcel of plays and ro-
mances must we plunder for whole nosegays of
flowers to present to the ladies of our best affec-
tion! Now, all this is clear gains to you; for
a penny saved, you know, is a penny gained ;
and you may even besiege the town without all
these lines of circum and contravallation. Well,
all this is by way of reprehension. Now for a
little direction and exhortation, of which one
should think, too, you had no great need. She
loves you ; she loves to look upon you, to talk
with you, and of you, and gives you all the ho-
nourable marks of silent natural love ; and can-
not you love her in her own way, let her love
which way she pleases ? What if she should
require such tokens of love as the African ladies
do, and expect you should stand still and admire
her, wiiile she pinched and bit you till she made

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 247

her obdurate teeth and nails meet in your patient
lips and knuckles ? But only to sit still and be
loved, one would think, should be no very diffi-
cult matter. If you must say nothing, cannot
you look as well as think the more ? Nay, can-
not you speak side-ways, though you may not
directly ; and good speed is often made by sailing
upon a side-wind. Thus you may insensibly
gain upon her; till at last, if she is a woman,
she will speak to you to speak, or give some
shrewd signs she would have you no longer
silent. But, if she would have you dumb every
where else, when you think it proper time, try
if she will let you speak at church_, and herself
answer you, since perhaps she has a mind to be
surprized in her happiness. In the mean time
be patient, observant, and submissive, and no
doubt you will gain your point.

Quest, — Is Love good or evil to us ? And
which is most laudable, to place it upon man-
kind, or some other object, as fame, &c. ?

Ans, — Next to existence itself, the capacity of
loving is the greatest gift that God has bestowed
upon man ; since, by that faculty only, he is
fitted for the enjoyment of all outward goods,
and the more noble and excellent the object is,
so much is it the more capable of giving us an
extensive and durable happiness; therefore^ the

248

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

love of each other is preferable to that of honours,
fame, and riches ; and our inconstancy and bad
choice is the reason why it is so indifferently
relished among us.

Quest. — Whether the woman's condition in
marriage be not worse than the man's ?

Ans, — It much depends on her own conduct.
Nature has generally given the woman art enough ;
by which; if either she herself, or custom, or
law, has given our sex any advantage over theirs,
they may, if they please, recover more than their
own again. In child-birth they have doubtless
much more reason to wish the human race might
propagate like trees, than man has to desire any
such thing, though one of our own sex (Brown),
author of Vulgar Errors," first started that odd
whimsey.

Quest, — What way shall a shame-faced virgin
take, to let a person know she loves him ?

Ans, — If the lady who proposes this question
has either hands or eyes, she need not be taught
how to use them, unless her spark is a fool, or
blind, or never leads her.

Quest. — Whether it is right for a woman to
marry one she does not love, in hopes that love
will come after ?

Ans. — ^There is a great deal of difference in not

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 249

loving a person, and not being able to love him, as
having an unconquerable aversion to him, either
from secret unaccountable causes — as who can
give a satisfactory reason why so many people
have an antipathy to cheese, unless that they
were surfeited of milk before they were weaned ;
or else such an aversion be grounded on some
disagreeableness in a man's person or disposition,
which may be very difficult to conquer. In
both those cases it is not prudent, nor, we think,
lawful to marry, because one end of matrimony,
mutual comfort and support, can never be an-
swered ; besides, you will find so much to bear
with and forgive in your husband, as well as he
in you, that, unless you are both angels, without
this love on both sides to sweeten and unite, you
are like to lead but a miserable life. But, in
truth, men are not so complaisant after marriage
as before; and perhaps you must do all yourself
towards loving them, since they generally think
they have said all their part before matrimony.

Quest, — I wish to be informed what bounds
Religion and Reason prescribe to Love ; and whe-
ther it be not possible, let women be ever so ex-
cellent, to sin in over-loving them ; I mean, in
such love as is itself lawful, towards one particular
person ?

Ans. — Love and Poetry, as they are related in
other respects, so are they in this, that they have

250 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

bonds and shackles. Cupid, as well as Apollo,
is a sort of Pindarical gentleman. He is, you
must know, a god too, such a one as it is, and
looks as big, with his bows and arrows, as his
uncle Jupiter himself, with all his thunder,
though Vulcan had just hammered them a new
set of bolts out of a forge, and filed them as
bright as his mother Juno's forehead. But to
say no more of these heathen gods and loves ;
there is no doubt but the love of a wise and good
man ought to be, however difficult the work,
confined within the bounds of Religion and Rea-
son, unless he will love irreligiously, or like a
distracted person. As for those bounds, they are
to be fixed by the bounds of a superior love ; and
such undoubtedly is, or ought to be, our love
to Heaven, to our country, ourselves, and perhaps
our parents, at least before marriage ; for, though
we are " to leave father and mother, and cleave to
a wife," yet it is no-where said so of a mistress.
As for the second question, the resolution of it
depends upon the first, for it is possible to love
a woman more than any of these objects which
ought to be preferred before her. That Love is
disorderly, and a transgression both of the laws
of Religion and Reason ; though it is difficult to
find one who loves in earnest, that has yet no-
thing to answer for on that account.

Quest, — Whether a young lady ought, in rea-

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 351

son or prudence, to keep by her, after she is
married, any letters or pictures from any of her
former admirers ?

Ans. — It may seem in itself an indifferent
thing, unless in some few circumstances, which
totally alter the case. One is, if the husband be
inclined to jealousy ; another, if the lady, when
married, loved any other person more than her
husband, whose letters and pictures might, on
that account, be as dangerous for her to keep
about her, as on the other imprudent. There
may yet be one case more, wherein it may not be
convenient for her to keep any thing received of
a former lover ; and that is, when there is a pro-
bability such persons may speak unhandsomely
of her if she keep such things, and, being enraged
at losing her, may easily take occasion so to
speak.

Quest, — A lady desires to know when she shall
have a husband ?

Ans, — We read of a waggish boy, who went to
the Delphic Oracle with a live sparrow in his
hand, and proposed this question, " Whether the
sparrow was dead or alive ?" designing that, if the
Oracle had answered deady to have shewn it alive ;
but, if the Oracle had answered alive, to have
crushed it in his hand, and produced it dead.
But the Oracle answered : In te sitwn, &c.
" It is in thy power to produce it either alive or

252

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

dead. I aai sensible the lady needs not to be
instructed in the application, which, if she designs
in the affirmative, I would not have her to neglect
her form of prayer.

Quest. — After what manner should a gentle-
man, at the first visit, accost his mistress ?

j4ns, — Mistresses are to be attacked, like towns,
according to their fortifications, situation, or gar-
rison ; no general rule, in such cases, can be
given. Some are weak of one side, some of ano-
ther, which a cunning engineer will soon find
out. Some are to be mined, some to be bombed,
some won by storm, others by composition, others
to be starved into a surrender. The pleasantest
way of courtship we ever heard of was that of a
very old, very rich, very covetous, very foolish, very
ugly humble servant, to a fine young lady ; whom,
having taken abroad in his coach, after some pre-
fatory hums and haws, and genteel leers, he pulls
out from under his coat his great bossed Bible,
with silver clasps, and, turning to the beginning
of Genesis, shews her not that text, Increase and
multiply, which it is very likely he held his
thumb upon, but another, a little after it, It is
not good for a man to he alone ; and thereupon
made her a very seasonable holding-forth on the
uses and excellencies of matrimony.

Some termagant wits, like Sylvia in "The Sol-

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. S53

dier s Fortune/' are only to be won by downright
caterwauling; that is, rambling, and fighting, and
scratching, breaking legs and arms and necks,
and then to purring again. But a woman of
sense, as she hates on one side a freakish lover,
or a supple fop that is alternately kneeling, and
cringing, and whining ; so she will never endure
stiffness, pride, and haughtiness, which as ill
becomes love as it does devotion ; and the greater
her birth and fortune are, something of a pro-
portionably greater respect ought to be paid her :
in a word, a modest assurance, a manly beha-
viour, a tenderness for all her inclinations, a
diligent observation of her temper and humour,
faithfulness, assiduity, liberality, and good sense,
will at last carry her, if she is not pre-engaged,
or wholly impregnable.

Quest. — Whether fondness after marriage is
more pardonable in man or woman ?

Ans, — It is silly enough to both, as well as
indecent, to be always slabbering, like a couple
of horses rubbing one another. It often shows all
things are not well behind the curtain, when
there is so much love before folks ; and there is
danger lest their love should not last long, if they
squander it away too fast at their first setting up.
But to compare this fondness of both sexes, we
think it seems worst in a man; because there it is
most unnatural, and looks, like a woman with a

254

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

beard, so very monstrous, that all the street
points at her wherever she appears.

Quest, — Whether it is better to marry a wo-
man with a singular good temper, and not truly
religious ; or a shrewd, of a crabbed temper, that
is religious ?

Ans, — For the first, there are hopes of her, if
she is of a good temper, and that well managed,
that she may improve, and^ by God's mercy,
become truly pious and religious ; though, if
not, we believe even a good man might live more
comfortably with her than the other, who, after
all, may not prove very religious ; for it is cer-
tainly true of woman, as well as man, if they
bridle not their tongue, all their Religion is vain.

Quest. — Can a tender friendship between two
persons of different sexes be innocent ?

Ans, — Such a friendship is not only innocent,
but commendable, and as advantageous as it is
delightful. A strict union of souls is the essence
of friendship. There is no sex in souls; nor,
while those only are concerned, can any thing
that is criminal intrude. It is a conversation
truly angelic; and has so many charms in it, that
the friendships between man and man bear no
comparison to it. The very souls of the fair sex,
as well as their bodies, are more delicate than
those of men, while men reckon themselves pos-
sessed of a more solid judgment and stronger

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 255

reason. Nor can any thing on earth give a
greater or purer pleasure than communicating
such knowledge to a worthy person, who, if of
the fair sex, by the charms of her conversation
inexpressibly sweetens the present labours ; and,
by the advantage of a fine mind and good genius,
often advances such notions as the instructor him-
self would not otherwise have thought of.

Quest. — Is it lawful to make addresses to
young ladies without previously consulting their
parents and relatives?

Ans, Gallantry and duty, in this case, gene-
rally advise to very different measures ; and, as
the world goes, a lady would give her admirer
but small thanks for first making love to her
father and mother. But to come to the point.

We may divide addresses to a lady, like attacks
on a town, into two ranks; they are either loose
blockades, or formed sieges. The first are not
of so great consequence ; whereas, the latter
ought not to be laid or raised without deeper con-
sideration. It is easy to apply this. A general
conversation with a lady is requisite, to know, if
possible, whether she deserves to be loved ; and
this before any application be made to the parents
for a formal courtship. I would advise to make
applications both to the daughter and parents as
near as possible at the same time, that neither
might conceive any umbrage of each other. The

2^6 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

latter part of the question, indeed, admits of many-
distinctions. There is, first, a great difference
between immediate parents and more remote
relations; and perhaps, too, between some pa-
rents and others.

Quest. — Whether it is lawful to marry a person
one cannot love, only in compliance to relations,
and to get an estate ?

Ans. — Had the question only been proposed of
such as we do not actually love, it might perhaps
have admitted of some limitation, since we some-
times see persons love tenderly after marriage,
who could hardly endure each others sight before;
though even such an experiment must be very
hazardous ; and he must be a bold man who dares
venture upon it : but as it is proposed, whether
we may marry such as we cannot love, it is beyond
all doubt, and must be answered in the negative,
since such a practice would be most cruel and
imprudent. Society is the main end of marriage.
Love is the bond of society, without which there
can neither be found in that state pleasure, or
profit, or honour ; he, then, or she, that marries
for so base an end as profit, without any possi-
bility or prospect of Love, is guilty of the highest
brutality imaginable, and is united to a carcass
without a soul ; this being also but too general a
truth, as one wittily observes, That he who
marries a woman he could never love, will, it is

LOVE AND MARRIAGE.

257

to be feared, soon love a woman he never mar-
ried ?

Quest,— Wh^t course must a person take to
remove a lady's aversion to him, supposing her
under some previous engagement?

^ns, — A pre-engagement of that nature is so
sacred a thing, that no man in his sober reason
ought to contribute any thing towards the break-
ing of it, on which account it would scarcely be
honest to give directions for the attempting of it.
But if the question be simply how to conquer a
lady's aversion — that admits of a fair answer. The
best way is, after having found her humour, to
ply her close ; do not let her, if possible, so much
as sleep, which they say is the way to tame the
wildest creature in the world: or if she does sleep,
be so often with her that she can dream of no-
thing but you. This only receipt has the greatest
effect on most of the fair sex, who, if you perse-
vere long enough, will be forced at last to love you
in their own defence. As they give alms to beggars
to be rid of them and their importunities, so they
will give themselves to their lovers to be rid of
their wooings.

Quest. — Whether, if females went a-courting,
there would not be more marriages than there
now are r

Ans, — 1 think not so many, at least if they
s

258

THE ATHENIAN OKACLF..

only were to court, and we to be silent ; for as
courage is the most proper virtue of man, so mo-
desty is of a woman (though we meet with them
sometimes in the contrary sexes) ; for which rea-
son many ladies would die sooner than stoop to
what they think so mean a practice ; as we have
had instances of some who have actually done so;
it is their interest as well as their inchnation to be
on the defensive, for it is certain that most men
slight those females who fall in love with them ;
most of all if they proffer, or almost force them-
selves upon them.

Quest.— How shall a man know when a lady
loves him ?

— First find out, if you can, whether she
has loved any other before, for that renders the
case much more difficult; for one that has been
deceived herself knows how to deceive you. Jea-
lousy is counted one pretty sure sign of love, but
I think it much such anoifier as convulsions are
of life. If a woman tells you she loves, there is
no way but believing her ; indeed, there are hardly
any of the tokens of that passion but are fallible,
though the shrewdest sign that a woman loves
you is her marrying you.

Quest. — Whether beauty be real or imaginary ?
Ans. — Custom and opinion go a great way to-
wards making a deformity or a beauty ; and how

LOVE AND MARRIAGE.

«59

shall we know who is right, he that abuses the Negro
for his flat nose and thick lips, or the Negro, who
abuses the other for his thin lips and high nose ?
Nor has complexion any better fate than propor-
tion ; one who is born white among the blacks
being as great a monster as a black among those
that are white. However, as exceptions do not
set aside general rules, there must be a best some-
where; white is lovely, and black horrid — one
resembling the light, and the other darkness. In
these things, therefore, we place beauty ; namely,
features, proportion, complexion, mien, and air.
There is such a thing as a good feature taken by
itself — some things being shaped more neatly
than others, as we may see in a horse compared
with an elephant — a greyhound with a swine. And
this is something in Nature, independent from the
fancy or judgment of any man. Now this feature,
as it is a real beauty, so it is distinct even from
proportion. We see persons who have some
good features, nose, mouth, chin, &c. ; whereas the
rest may either be deformed or unproportionable,
not bearing that due regard of situation or magni-
tude one to another which at first sight appears
pleasing or natural. A good mien relates to all
the body, a fine air to the face only; a good mien
is but of one sort, and more easily described than
an air ; it signifies the handsome appearance some
people make when you take them all together.
And this, though there may be something of it in

s 2

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Nature, yet it is chiefly owing to education ;
whereas a good air is perfectly natural, and im-
possible to be given by all the art in the world ;
for sometimes we see a face with lines of majesty
in it, that, like Caesar's, or Gustavus Adolphus',
dazzles all that beholds it, and is so sharp and
piercing, that it is almost insupportable ; at other
times we meet with such an incomparable sweet-
ness, that it charms all that see it, and those who
have it we rather call pretty than beautiful, since
it is often found where there is scarcely one good
feature. Now it is a rare happiness indeed to see
a face at once both sweet and majestic, though,
when discovered, they conquer the world. What
then must they do, when the owners of them have
the advantages of a good mien, good features, just
proportion, and a fine complexion r Complexion
is of the least value, for it soonest fades ; fools
often have it, and we are not agreed which is the
best. We rank good features in the next place,
with which may be reckoned proportion, since, in
general, one cannot be without the other. Better
than both appears a good mien, for it lasts longer,
and recommends more, especially in a man, where
iheface is not of much importance. Best of all
a good air, because, when good mien and com-
plexion fail — when there is sometimes little that
we like either in feature or proportion — a good
mien always lasts; anjd nothing but death, and
hardly that, can alter or destroy it.

LOVE AND MARRIAGE.

2^1

Quest. — I have a dreadful scold of a wife, and
would willingly give you half my estate to tell me
how to tame her?

Ans. — That we will do for nothing, on condi-
tion you will not turn the old proverb upon us.
The method we would prescribe for taming your
shrew is, laugh at her, and let her scold on till
she is weary ; seem to take no notice of her ; do
as a mastiff would to a little whiffling cur that
barks at him ; say nothing to her, unless a little
by the bye; and perhaps, when she sees herself
slighted, she will burst for mere vexation.

Quest. — Whether is the man or the woman
more subject to love ?

Ans. — The question is very evident. A man is
sooner taken and wrapped in love than a woman ;
for we see that the man, who is born to a thousand
good and great enterprizes, does, for the sake of
love, abandon all the glory and honour of the
world.

Quest. — There is a gentleman whose friends
are very desirous to see him settled before their
death. He has now the offer of four wives. The
one a very considerable fortune, but nothing else
to recommend her, and this lady he despises ; but.
this his friends most approve of. Another a very
beautiful lady, young, gay, and brisk ; and though
she is not over wise, yet her person is very hand-

262

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

some, and he could love her extremely. The third
is a lady of great goodness, high generosity, and
abounding in wit. This he esteems above them all,
but knows not where to fix ; for there is a fourth,
that courts him with all the insinuation and pas-
sion imaginable, but she is a coquette ; excepting
that, she is every way a desirable match ?

Ans. — Poor Gentleman ! he is like to be stifled
with kisses, and in great danger of being pressed
to death with roses. How many an honest man
now would be glad of the worst bit of his leavings !
But to business ; if the propagation of guineas
were the only end of marriage, the first would do
best ; if neither men nor women have souls, as
some Turks and Jews think of the latter, and
a few fools of the former, the second would be
most desirable. If a man were obliged to cut his
own throat, or, what is worse, turn a galley slave,
and tug at the matrimonial oar till death do them
part, purely and only to save a woman's longing,
then let him take the last that is in love with
him. But, if he is for a match of body and soul
together, let him even " to have and to hold" it
with the third, who, if they have but enough to
live above contempt or care, can want no fortune
while she has so large a share of wit, goodness
and generosity.

Quest. — How far may Singing and Music be
proper in making love r

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 2^3

Am. — There is nothing that charms the soul
more than fine Music. It is almost impossible
for any thing to resist it; though in vocal still
more than instrumental. It smooths all the rug-
ged passions of the soul, and, like beauty, be-
witches into love almost before persons know where
they are. But even here, as well as in all other
cases, extremes are to be avoided, nothing being
more ridiculous than an eternal farewell to love ;
and a lady of sense would as soon make choice of
a singing-master, as one who is always tiring her
with hard names and doleful ditties. He must
then sing very rarely ; not be of the humour of
most songsters, who neither know when to begin
nor make an end. His performances must be na-
tural and easy, and carry something of a free and
genteel air; and he must never himself appear too
well pleased with them, but order it so, that he
may seem to oblige the lady^ not himself, by his
melody.

Quest. — How may a man reclaim an unruly
woman ?

Ans. — ^Give her rope enough ; let her alone, for
she is not to be made civil by any thing but the
worms. But if you have a mind to try to work
miracles, you may use some of the following di-
rections. Watch her tame ; that is the last re-
medy first. This is a way to tame even lions and
tigers. Some beat a drum till their poor women

S64 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

have been perfectly dumb and deaf with the noise.
Some are for letting blood under the tongue, or
in both arms, to prevent her scolding or fighting.
Others are for drawing teeth, which would do
well enough if they could cut the nails too at the
same time. But the surest way of all is being a
good husband yourself ; for being bad husbands
are very often the cause that the wives are no
better than they should be.

Quest, — Why women are for the most part
fonder and falser than men ?

j4ns, — We shall deny they are so for the most
part, until the Querist has told all the noses in
the world. For their fondness, none ever went
further in the trial of it, than Spenser's Squire
of Dames. And he made the experiment but on
three hundred. But that is all a spiteful fable,
mvented by the angry Poet for the loss of his
mistress. And would some fair lady make
the same trial, undoubtedly she would find fewer
denials than he did, supposing the story true.
Then for their being falser too, the objector un-
luckily destroys one part of the calumny by the
other ; for if fonder indeed, we men are gene-
rally the painters, and order all things as we
please. We write the histories of women, and re-
present ourselves and them as we think fit; but
they seldom write our lives, or defend themselves.
But grant the observation true in some cases, yet

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 26$

the poor ladies are easily excused. If they are fond,
it is disingenuous to blame them; and we seldom
think them so, till we are willing to leave them.
If they are false, we teach them to be so, and they
are often driven into it either out of despair or
revenge.

Quest. — A young man is in love with a
famed beauty, but slighted by her. The same
person is loved by another young lady of less
beauty, but superior fortune. How shall he be-
have himself between them ?

Ans, — We would advise him to drop his ad-
dresses to the beauty for two good reasons — be-
cause she is a beauty, and because she will not
entertain him. On the contrary, to improve his
interest in the fortune, if she has no remarkable
ill qualities, because she has a fortune, which he
will find the most comfortable importance in all
matrimony, and much more savour in it than the
old knight-errant way, that thin-gutted, ram-
bling, grinning, starving love ; and because she
drops into his mouth, and there are all the charges
of lies, presents, whining, dying, love-letters,
maids, porters, clearly saved into his own pocket.

Quest, — Whether the passage of St. Paul, in
1 Tim. iii. 2, A Bishop must be the husband
of one wife," does not seem to allow that the Apos-
tle permitted other men to have more than one ?

i66

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

I should think polygamy the happiest hfe in the
world, if it were not forbidden.

Ans, — The reason we have so many unhpapy
marriages is, because the generality of the world
are incapable of knowing what true love is ; but
have an unreasonable and unruly passion to be sa-
tisfied, that spoils their true taste of pleasure, and
inclines them rather to please the brute than the
man ; to seek more after a fair face, or diversity of
such, than a wise woman and a friend ; but the
event generally shews the misfortune of the choice.
The conversation of one ingenuous woman, that is
wise enough to love, and prudent and agreeable in
temper, will give more felicity to such as are capa-
ble of being happy, than the choice of a thousand ;
nay, were it possible they should all have similar
qualifications : because true love is only between
two; and without that all the pleasures of hfe are
insipid. This was well known to our wise Creator,
who at first made but two, as a complement of
each other 8 happiness. But, to convince you that
you as little understand St. Paul as you do the
notions of a happy life, we will explain the pas-
sage. That the Bishop must be the husband of
but one wife, must be understood the command-
ing him to marry but one wife, which not only
excludes the plurality of women at the same time,
but even forbids second marriages to Bishops.
After this manner, Lycophron calls Helen the
wife of three husbands," although she never had

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 2^7

three at a time, Theseus being dead before Paris
stole her from Menelaus. Africanus calls a wo-
man that was married a second time Duviram,
and Tertullian one that was married but once
Univiram. The primitive Christians founded it
upon this passage ; and it is not unlikely but it
might be in imitation of the Romans, who did
not permit their High Priest to marry a second
time, that they also forbid their Bishops. So
the same Apostle likewise, in chap. v. ver. g. re-
quires them to choose such widows for the ser-
vice of the Church, as should be the wife of but
one husband, that is, that they should be such as
had not married again ; for women were not in-
tended to have many at the same time, and St.
Paul would not have forbidden a thing that had
never happened. But the Roman Laws permit-
ting women to put away their husbands, it was
common for women that were not very chaste to
change them often, as several passages of Seneca
and Juvenal prove.

Quest, — Whether or not a woman being in
love may make it known without any breach of
modesty ? If she were not rather to be com-
mended for speaking her mind, than die like a
fool?

Ans, — It would be an heroical and happy ad-
venture to break the ice, and give an instance of
one that has successfully overcome a tyrannical

268

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

custom. But the mischief on it is, the fear of a
repulse has hindered many a fine attempt that
way. Yet we see no reason why a woman that
has sense enough to make a good choice, and
knows how as handsomely to discover it, should
be obliged to conceal her love : on the contrary,
it would be the best method to discover it ; since
by that means she would find a good reception or
a cure; for it is very unlikely a person should long
love any one that slighted them.

Quest. — Who are wisest, those who marry for
love, or for convenience ?

Ans. — There is no degree of wisdom in either ;
but they are both fools if they marry for one with-
out the other. Love, without the necessary con-
veniences of life, will soon wear thread-bare;
and conveniences, without love, are no better than
being chained to a post, for the sake of a little
meat, drink, and clothing. But, if we compare
the small degrees of each together, much love,
and moderate convenience, is far better than the
most plentiful estate, with little or no love.

Quest, — Whether all Marriages are made in
Heaven ?

^ns, — ^The question is, whether every man and
woman who marry were predestined to the same.
If by this predestination is meant such a neces-
sary determination of our actions as make them

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 2^9

cease to be free and rational, we must absolutely
deny any such thing, as being only an excuse for
imprudence and folly, and may as well be made
use of by bad persons as weak ones. In the
mean time we do not doubt but the providence of
God does really interpose, and preside over all hu-
man actions, in such a way as is agreeable to its
own justice and wisdom, and the nature of man ;
and if in other actions, certainly in this, which is
of the highest concern to the happiness of life.
But this infers no sort of necessity upon us, nor in
the least takes away the freedom of our actions,
which we feel we have in whatever we do ;
though Reason tells us there is one above us, and
though it may perhaps fall short in its enquiry
how these things can be well reconciled with one
another.

Question. — Say, learn'd Athenians, how I may improve.
Or else secure the extasies of love >
One of the softer sex is mine, and I
Am hers J just now 's the nuptial joy.
Guess at the rest, your condescension can
Congratulate my bliss, and paint the happy man ?
Answer. — All that is sweet and soft attend.

All that is calm, serene, and bright.
That can please, or pleasure mend.

Or secure, or cause delight.
Little Cupids, come and move

Round the Bridegroom's longing eyes.
Whilst the stately Queen of Love
Round the Bride her cestos ties.

«70

THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

Golden Hymen, bring thy robe.

Bring thy torch, that still inspires
Round the stately amorous globe

Vigorous flames and gay desires.
Sisfer Graces, all appear ;

Sister Graces, come away ;
Let the Heavens be bright and clear.

Let the Earth keep holyday.
Jocund Nature does prepare

To salute the charming Bride,
And with odours fills the air,

Snatch'd from all the world beside.
Virtue, Wit, and Beauty may

For a time refuse to yield j
But at length they must obey.

And with honour quit the field.
Their efforts in vain will prove

To defend their free-born state j
When attack'd by mighty Love,
. They must all capitulate.
Marble-hearted Virgins, who

Rail at love to shew your wits.
So did once Eliza too.

Yet with pleasure now submits.
Ye too, envious Swains, who would

Follow Cupid if you might ;
Like that fox that gaping stood.

Discommend the grapes for spite.
Since experience teaches best.

Ask if mutual love has charms,
When the Bride and Bridegroom rest

Lock'd in one another's arms ?

Quest. — I am a young woman, and would, like
others, fain get as good a husband as possible, and

LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 27 1

in order to do it, would know how to choose him.
I have heard the wise affirm, there are eight pro-
perties required to make so great a rarity —
1. grace; 2. race; 3. face; 4. parts; 5. art;
6. portion; 7. proportion ; S. a good disposition;
But, since I am not hkely to get a spouse with
all these qualifications, I desire no more of them
than such as would conduce to a young woman's
happiness. To be free, I would have my five
senses particularly gratified ; and therefore desire
to know which three of those qualifications I may
best spare in my Lover ?

yhis. — Grace you have nothing to do with
here, since it seems you are only for pleasing
your senses. Nor will a good race edify your
touch or taste. Arts will please your ear, if he
plays and sings well ; face, your eyes ; portion^
your taste and smell ; and that which rhymes to
it, the fifth sense. And then what need of the two
remaining qualifications? since 2\\yo\iv Jive senses
are gratified without them ? But we will be se-
rious, and give you better advice than perhaps
you will take. In the first place, do not be too
nice in your choice, lest you should get no husband
at all, or the worst that oflfers — the common fate
of you critical ladies. Then, if you have a choice
to make, choose first one that has piety, or at least
moral honesty, if you know where to find him.
Do not give yourself to one of mean parentage,
let him be ever so rich, who will probably taste of
his education, and use you ill when he has you^

272 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE.

unless his temper and conversation in the world
has corrected that vice. Nor, on the other side,
doat on that airy name, a gentleman, where
there is no estate ; much less on a good face, un-
less you have a mind to have your neighbours
share with you ; nor on a wit, unless you long to
be basely used as a proof of his being so ; or, at
best, he will be likely to have too much love for
himself long to admire you; much less choose one
who has nothing but wealth, or all things without it,
we mean a competency of it, unless youhaveenough
for both ; for you will soon find the bed itself un-
easy, if the cradle be full, and the cupboard
empty. All we say of the next shall be, that it
does very well ; a handsome leg and foot are not
amiss ; but yet there is no one, except perhaps now
and then some lewd piece of quality, that doats
upon monsters either in excess or defect. For
the last, a good disposition, it is well in a man,
though more necessary in a woman ; a tolerable
portion of good-humour, we mean not so much
as degenerates into fondness and softness, which is
apt to surfeit instead of please, and, besides, lays
men open to ill company, and the practices of
every cunning knave he meets. On the whole,
take this advice as to the precedency of these qua-
lifications, on the order wherein they ought to be
desired : 1. first; 6. second; 7. third; 4. fourth;
8. fifth; 2. sixth ; 3. seventh ; 5. eighth.

273

ALPHABETICAL TABLE

OF

THE SEVERAL QUESTIONS.

America, whence first peopled? 42.
Anger, what is it ? 69.

Angry and sin not, when can a man be ? 185.
Animals, on the formation of, 85.
Apostles used no notes in their preaching, 181.
Aristotle, Plato, and Pythagoras, which the best ? 61.

Beauty, whether it be real or imaginary ? 258.

Benefit of Clergy, whence its origin? 33.

Birds, have they any government ? 24.

Bishop to be the husband of one wife, explained, 265.

Bodies, on preserving, 68.

Britain, why represented by a woman sitting with a shield? 51.

Cain, what mark did God set upon him ? 177.
Camel's going through the eye of a needle, explained, 1*9.
Centaurs and Lapithae explained, 83.
Children, whether punishable for their parents* sins ? 165.
Christ, why not baptized till thirty years old ? 144.
Christ, the many contradictions about his suiferings recon-
ciled, 175.
Christ, why he loved St. John best ? 186.
Christianity, whether the occasion of more good or harm? 192^
Clouds, what are they ? 1.

Colour, on alteration of, in different bodies, 135.
Conceit, is it possible to die of ? 134.
Constantinople, chief cause of its destruction, 58.
Corns, whence they proceed ? 44.

T

274

INDEX.

Courtship, whether allowable without consulting parents,

&c. 255.
Crisis, is there any of time ? 18.

Dancing, lawfulness of? 54.

Days, whether persons have extraordinary accidents on pecu-
liar ? 18.
Death, what is it ? IS.
Death, the greatest of all evils, 29.
Death, why so alarming to some, and not to others ? 214.
Deceiver, if a sin to deceive him ? 177.
Dew, how produced? 12.
Dissenter, whether a schismatic ? 185.
Dreams, why men dream of things they never thought of? 21.

Early or late hours, which best ? 106.

Education, proper mode of ? 48.

Election of a determinate member to eternal life, 212.

Epitaphs and Elegies, their antiquity ? 22.

Esseans, account of, 160.

Estate, which is hardest, to get or to keep an estate ? 142.

Eternity of the world, 166.

Eyes, why both eyes see but one image ? 12.

Eyes, why see more correctly with one than with both ? 36. '

Fear, why it causes paleness ? 90.
Fire, how made betwixt Flint and Steel ? 7.
Fire, circle of, from a fire-stick, 53.
Fleas, have they stings ? 3.

Flowers, why open in morning, and shut at night ? 90.
Friendship, what is it ? 111.
Fruit-trees, grafting explained, 67

Glass, origin of ? 94.

God hath made all things for himself, &c. the meaning of ? 165^

INDEX.

275

God, how to know the true from false gods ? 169.
God, all nations have believed in a God, 186.
Goodness, whether any defence against misfortune ? 179.
Gout, original cause of ? 11.

Gunpowder or Printing, which the cause of the greatest mis-
chief? 168.
Guns, when first invented ? 45.

Habits, how to be overcome, 194,
Hair, why some curls naturally, 143.
Hanging in chains alive ? 38.

Happiness, which enjoy most, wise men or fools ? 36.
Happiness, what is the greatest ? 50.
Happiness, what is it ? 62.

Hearing or Sight, the loss of which least felt ? 140.
Hercules, or Ale ides, account of, 64.
Herodians, account of, 162.
Horses, the cause of their neighing ? 39.
Husband, where is the likeliest place to get one ? 224.
Husband, whether lawful to pray for one ? 226.
Husband, a lady's difficulty in the choice of, 232.
Husband, whether a woman should take one she cannot love ?
243, 248.

Husband, how best to choose one, 271.

Idle words, to be accounted for in day of judgment, ex-
plained, 174.
Idolatry, whence its first rise ? 39.
Individuation, wherein does consist ? 15.
Ingratitude, nothing worse than, 135.
Inspiration, by what can we discover divine from false ? 145.
Islands, how did beasts come into > 132.
Islands, how came they inhabited ? 132.

Joy, its utmost effects ? 5.

27G

INDEX.

Karreans, account of, 163.

Know one's self, how to doit? 169.

Knowledge, why do men desire ? 115.

Late or early hours, which best ? 106.
Lammas Day, why so called ? 89.

Latter ages, whether they have less of learning, judgment
and invention, than the antients ? 19.

Laughing and weeping for the same cause, whence it pro-
ceeds ? 137.

Letters, &c. of former admirers, whether to be preserved

after marriage ? 251.
Life more desirable than death, 29.
Loadstone, whence its polarity } 27.
Love, what is it ? 221.

Love, why it generally turns to coldness and neglect aft«r

marriage? 222.
Love, best remedies for ? 223.
Love, is absence best for it ? 224.
Love, whether diminished by fruition ? 229.
Love, whether possible to love twice with the same ardour ?

240.

Love, cases of difficulty in, 240, 241, 244, 245, 24S, 265.
Love, is it good or evil ? 247*

Love, whether bounds prescribed to by Religion and Rea-
son? 240.
Love, how first to address a lady ? 252.
Love, Platonic, whether innocent ? 254.
Love, the most hkely way to succeed in ? 257.
Love, how to ascertain whether a lady loves you ? 258.
Love, whether man or woman most subject to ? 261.

Man or woman, which the most noble ? 96.
Marriage, if promise of, allowable against consent of friends ?
231.

Marriage, is II. posbible to love as well after marriage as be-
fore ? 246.

INDEX.

277

Marriage, whether the woman's condition is not worse than

the man's ? *248.
Marriage, over-fondness after, whether more pardonable in

man or woman ? 253.
Marriage, whether to be entered into with those We cannot

love ? 256.

Marriages for love or convenience, which are best ? 2C6.
Marriages, if all made in Heaven ? 266.
Marriages, whether more, if ladies went a-courting ? 2rj7.
Married, or single life, which is best ? 228.
Matter infinitely divisible, 139.
Melancholy, its symptoms, causes, and cure ? 2.
Middle rank of life most eligible, 184.
Milky Way, what is it ? 26.
Millers, why more deaf than other men ? 139.
Money, getting, the most generally delightful thing in the
world, 140.

Money, whether a man sins more in spending foolishly, or in

being covetous ? *42.
Moon, why its beams do not convey warmth ? 136.
Moon, why part« show a faint light ? 137.
Mourning, colours used for in different countries, 91.
Musick, how far proper in making love ? 262.

Nature, the meaning of the word ? 53.

Navigation, whether ancients were as well skilled in as (hr

moderns ? 92.
Nettle, how does it sting ? 23.
Nothing, definition, &c. of it ? 72.
Number, what is a perfect ? 43.

Opium, whence derived ? 10.

Osiers, why smooth and rough ? 9.

Owl, why it sees best in a faint light ? 13S.

278

INDEX.

Pain or Pleasure, which most easily resisted ? 70.
Painting, what nation first invented it ? 6.
Parents, on conduct of towards their children, 51.
Parrots, talking, 32,

Parrots, why talk, when other birds cannot ? 39.

Passion, how to cure ? 45.

Paul, St. questions on his shipwreck, &c. 157.

Pentateuch, if written by Moses ? 214.

Pharisees, account of, 15S.

Pharisees, why Christ so displeased with ? 163.

Philosopher, the first ? 39.

Plants, nature of ? 77.

Plato, Pythagoras, and Aristotle, which the best ? 61.

Pleasure or Pain, which most easily resisted ? 70.

Poetical Questions, 7, 229, 230, 269.

Popes, whence the custom of changing their names ? 37.

Predestination, whether the period of our lives are immedi-
ately fixed ? 211.

Pride, more generally observable in mean persons than those
of good birth, 57.

Printing or Gunpowder, which occasions the most mischief ?
168.

Prudence, whether any defence against misfortune ? 179.
Pythagoras, Plato, and Aristotle, which the best ? 61.

Revealed ReHgion, concerning, 154.

Riches and Honour, their real intrinsic value? 25.

Rudder, how does govern a ship ? 35.

Sabbath day's journey, how far ? 183.

Sadducees, account of, 159.

Samaritans, account of, 162.

Satires or Sermons, which best reformers ? 170.

Sciences, a general or particular application to, which most

desirable ? 59.
Scripture, how to know it to be the word of God ? 171.

INDEX.

Scripture, ought to keep to the strict text of, 191.
Scriptures, variety of interpretations no prejudice to, 172.
Sermons or Satires, which most successful in reforming man-
ners ? 170.

Sermon, why one hour's, seems longer than two hour's con-
versation ? 178.
Shells, whence a noise in, like the roaring of the sea } 35.
Sight or Hearing, the loss of which is least felt ? 140.
Silver, its degree amongst metals ? 60.
Singing, how far proper in making love ? 262.
Single life, or married, which is best ? 228.
Sky, whether of any colour ? 37.
Smoke, what becomes of it ? 22.
Snail, shell of, whence it proceeds ? 68.
Snakes, if hurtful ? 38.

Snow, why profitable to the fruits of the earth ? 142.

Society, or Solitude, which preferable ? 25.

Soul, what is it? 199.

Soul, whether eternal? 198.

Soul, whether all alike ? 207-

Soul, in what part of the body is it ? 208.

Soul, what the ancient philosophers conceived of it ? 209.

Soul, where is it when a man is in a swoon ? 210.

Souls of studious or learned men, whether more perfect than

those of ignorant men ? 209.
Sound, progress of, 34.
Sound, whence it proceeds ? 89.
Stammering, cure for it ? 64.

Star which appeared at our Saviour's birth, its nature, &c. 34,

Sun, false, whence does it proceed ? 46.

Sun, where does it set and rise ? 135.

Sun, why cannot it penetrate the clouds ? 141.

Sun, why does it make our flesh tawney, yet whiten linen ? 141.

Superstition, true meaning of, 174.

Talismans, Egyptian, force and virtues of ? 39*.

280

INDEX.

Talmud, account of, 165.

Temples of worship, when first built ? 183.

Thirst, why less bearable than hunger ? 90.

Thought, what is it ? 47.

Time, what is it ? 71.

Titillation, the cause of? 133.

Trades, the most cleanly, neat, and genteel : 47.

Trees, if cutting-ofF the bottom-root hurtful or beneficial ? 54.

Truth, whether always to be spoken ? 102.

Vacuum, is there such a thing ? 121.

Virtue, whether any defence against misfortune ? 1*9.

Weeping and laughing for same cause, whence it proceeds r 137.

Wife, whether beauty, good temper, or riches, to be pre-
ferred in the choice of? 237-

Wife, whether allowable to pray for the death of a bad one ?
240.

Wife, a good and prudent better than a rich one, 242.
Wife, which is best, a good tempered and not religious, or

crabbed and religious ? 254.
Wife, scolding, how to tame her? 261.
Wife, whether riches, beauty, goodness, or extreme love in

return, should have the preference in the choice of? 262.
Wind, why the East colder than the West ? 50.
Woman, whether it be allowable to make known her love ? 267.
Women, capriciousness of, 126.
Women, why fonder and falser than men ? 264.
Wives, unruly, how to reclaim ? 263.

Zealots, account of, 163.

THE END.

Printed by J. Nichols and Son, 25, rarliament Street, Westminster.